For You, I'll Risk It All
by Thorne Lockehart
Summary: When Samantha Devine leaves LA for a week after the release of her new single, she stops at the place where she found her true self. Unfortunately, she gets there in time to see the boy who'd stolen her heart and never truly gave it back. Finn/OC 'Finnmantha' with a hint of St. Berry/Westberry love triangle flavor.
1. Chapter 1: Famous In A Not So Small Town

_**A/N: Okay, so we have a new fan in the Glee franchise! C: She's a very good friend of mine. I keep wanting to do a story based on season three for the Devine series, but I can't watch the third season until it goes on Netflix. I watched it on Hulu, but it's been a while and there are commercials there...**_

_**Disclaimer: I own no one of Glee, albeit I own Samantha Devine and every other character you don't recognize. **_

_**Summary: When Samantha Devine leaves LA for a week after the release of her new single, she stops at the place where she found her true self. Unfortunately, she gets there in time to see the boy who'd stolen her heart.**_

_**Pairings: Puck/OC eventual Finn/OC Brittany/Santana, Jake/Marley, Brody/Rachel  
**_

* * *

_Get caught in the race of this crazy life  
Trying to be everything can make you lose your mind  
I just wanna go back in time to American honey  
There's a wild, wild whisper blowing in the wind  
Calling out my name like a long-lost friend  
Oh, I miss those days as the years go by  
Oh, nothing sweeter than summertime  
And American honey_

_Gone for so long now, I gotta get back to her somehow  
To American honey_

Lady Antebellum — American Honey

* * *

"So, Samantha Devine. You're only eighteen and you're barely out of high school, yet the word on the street is that you're already cutting a new album! What's that like?" a perky blonde asked, crossing her legs on an overstuffed white armchair on the set of some talk show. Sam had honestly forgotten who this woman was. She glanced at the sky-blue background with the scrawling white italic letters bearing the name 'Wendi' across the back.

"Well, I've always wanted to record stuff that I write. I've gotta be honest, I'm a little blown away by it. It's kinda like I'm totally in my element here," she answered. The bright lights were nearly blinding and she could feel herself getting claustrophobic.

"It's been said that you were in a school shooting," Wendi commented. She was far too perky for Sam's personal liking, and far too nosy.

"Yeah, I was, but I don't really like talking about that," Sam replied, giving her a look. The thoughts still haunted her and she preferred to talk about it to her father, who could relate. These people didn't know her, therefore, they didn't need to know about the shooting. It was too personal to share.

"Well, when we come back, we're gonna have Gracie Flanigan talk about her new movie 'Death of a Star'!" Wendi said, immediately reverting back to overly peppy cheerleader. Sam didn't trust a pretty, perky blonde in a mini-dress getting a talk show funded by Daddy.

"And cut!" the director said. Sam stood up and shook Wendi's hand, forcing a smile before walking off the stage. Her manager Richie was on the other side. He looked like the quintessential LA agent with the oil-black hair slicked back, dark sunglasses, Melba-toast tan, Bluetooth with a Blackberry, and an expensive Armani suit.

"Sammie, baby, that was awesome! You nailed that interview like a split hog!" he crowed. Sam smiled quickly and played with a lock of her raven hair, fighting back her retort. She hated it when people called her 'Sammie' and she definitely hated being called 'baby.' It sounded derogatory to her. "Now we need to talk Letterman!"

"Actually, I was hoping to go home tonight and get some sleep. I'm running on fumes here, Rich," she requested. Richie laughed once, a humorless sound.

"That's what I love about you, Sammie, you know that? That sense of humor, kid, you kill me!" he declared. Sam gritted her teeth and felt her phone ring in her little clutch. Kurt.

"Kurt!" she said happily. Immediately, her bad mood vanished. When someone from high school called, she always cleared her schedule to talk.

_"Hey, I had a few minutes to eat and I thought I'd call you to see how you're doing," _he said.

"I'm doing fine. I'm going home to get some sleep before I'm on the next stop on my talk show tour. I hope I can get to New York soon and see you and Rachel, I miss you guys so much," she replied. "You get free coffee from an up-and-coming singer."

_"I heard 'Together Without You' on the radio at Vogue today and it was absolute magic. I got to rub it in Terrible Tabitha's face that I actually know you!" _he gloated. Sam had to laugh. Kurt's nemesis at was Tabitha Faraday, the southern belle from hell, according to him.

Sam had written 'Together Without You' after a nasty breakup during senior year. She had moved away from Richie to go into her dressing room to change from the tiny pink and black lace one-shouldered dress into a pair of comfortable jeans and a T-shirt. September was a warm affair in California and she couldn't wait to get home, kick off those horrible heels and cuddle up with Shasta and watch reruns of _CSI: NY. _

"Can't wait to meet the famous Isabella Wright," she commented. Out of the graduates at McKinley, she, Kurt, and Mercedes had made it the biggest.

* * *

Sam could hardly take the people she worked with anymore. They were pushy, demanding, and she was burning out fast. She could probably count on one hand how many hours of sleep she'd had that week. Endless shots of espresso and her kidneys ached, but that was a sacrifice for cutting a new album.

"Richie, call a travel agent and book me a round-trip ticket for Columbus, Ohio and space them a week apart," she commanded him from the bathroom in her producer's apartment. She stared at her disheveled reflection. Her ice-blue eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot from lack of sleep and a poor diet and her temper was shortening. "And can someone get me a water bottle? I swear, I'm out of water to even sweat out."

"What the hell is in Ohio that would make you wanna leave the City of Angels?" Richie inquired from the living room. Sam rolled her eyes and walked out of the bathroom. Shasta glared at the man sitting in _her _spot on _her _couch. Mikey adored the husky and gave her whatever she wanted. If it was a spot on the couch, he'd buy her a whole damn living room set. Shasta got spoiled, there was no doubt about that.

"All I've met here are devils," she muttered. She looked up at the older man who offered to produce her album. "You don't mind if I'm gone for maybe a week, do you? I could just...really use the break. I haven't been sleeping properly and I just...I wanna go back to the place that inspired me."

"Columbus, Ohio inspired you?" Richie snorted from his perch on the couch. "Where the hell were you born, Sammie? Boondocks, USA?"

"How's about you shut your trap before I replace you?" Mikey snapped. His brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. Mikey Jeffrey only produced people he deemed real talent. It was a major honor for an invitation to be on his team. "This talent got inspired by Ohio. Let's not look a gift horse in the mouth, alright?"

"Thanks, Mikey. You're a damn saint," Sam declared, reaching on her toes to kiss his cheek. He pretended to blush and he waved her off.

"I took a chance on you, kid. I put my neck on the line with my old man to get you in a studio and give you a chance. If going to Ohio produces more hits like 'Together Without You', then by all means, go there," he reminded her. He looked at Richie. "Book the damn flight, alright?"

"I appreciate it, I really do," she told him. She made her way into the massive kitchen to get a water bottle out of the stainless steel fridge. The water was cold as it slid down her throat and she shivered. "It's gonna be amazing to see McKinley again."

The first thing she did was pull out her cellphone and text her father to let him know she was flying into town soon. The rest would be a complete surprise to everyone.

_Daddy, I'm flying into Lima to visit everyone :) Shh, it's a secret!_

The response was almost instantaneous.

_Okay! Miss you, honey!_

Sam shoved her phone back in her pocket, feeling a smile on her lips. She walked back into the living room and stared at her agent.

"Yes, ma'am, that's correct...Richie Adams to book a first-class flight from LAX in Los Angeles, California to Dave Rice Airport in Lima, Ohio," he said, crossing his ankles. It was easier for her to slip under the radar under her agent's name than her own. "Yes, leaving at four am Wednesday? That's wonderful. Yes, absolutely."

Two days from now, she would be on a plane to Lima.

* * *

McKinley was exactly the same as Sam remembered it, though she only recognized very few people. It was order as usual: the jocks ruled the school while everyone else cowered in fear. She nearly ran into a short blonde girl with a high pony-tail and a Cheerios uniform.

"Watch it, bitch," the blonde snarled. Sam glared at the girl and gritted her teeth. Man, she remembered a time when she would have traded words, but now she was an adult. It was time to take the high road and silently curse the girl to a black death.

"Takes one to know one, child," she said instead. She could find the choir room blindfolded and she stood near the mouth of the doorway, leaning against the frame. When Tina looked over at her, Sam put her finger to her lips to hush her. Mr. Schue was talking about Sectionals, of course. "Hey, Mr. Schuester, sorry I'm late. Am I too late to sing Britney?"

She strolled in as if she'd never left and leaned against the piano, grinning up at him.

"Actually, Thing 1, you're about two weeks too late. But you're never too late to come home for a visit," he replied. She stretched on her toes and hugged him tightly. Tina let out a squeal and threw her arms around her. "For those of you who don't know, this is probably one of our biggest successes. The singer of the recent single, 'Together Without You', Miss Samantha Devine."

There was a round of applause as Thing 2 hopped down from his seat to hug her, along with Artie, Sugar, Blaine, and Brittany.

"Hey, you guys! I missed you so much!" Sam enthused, returning the hugs from everyone.

"What brings you back to McKinley?" Mr. Schue asked. Sam hopped on the piano, swinging her legs with a grin.

"This choir room, mostly. It's where I laughed, cried, loved, hated, nearly got in a fist fight, and spent the best two years of my life," she responded. There were some new faces, which delighted her. "This place is where I became a whole new me."

Artie and Thing 2 exchanged nervous glances.

"Well, we're more than glad to have you back. Guys, if there was anyone who rose from the ashes to make something of herself, it's this girl right here. She survived so much, yet turned it into a life lesson," Mr. Schue told them, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm a girl who shushes inanimate objects and knows more about cars than this season's fashions," she quipped. She glanced up at her old choir teacher. "For those who don't know, these guys were my saving grace. You can count on these guys to be there for you and be like your own family."

"Marley's a pretty big fan of you, Thing 1. I think I've heard your new song about four times today because of her," Thing 2 said, looking at a pretty brunette with blue eyes. The brunette's eyes widened in embarrassment. Sam had to giggle at it.

"Well, that's a first," she commented, tilting her head.

"Hey, Sam, why don't you sing one of your songs for us?" Tina suggested. There were footsteps in the hall and Sam looked over her shoulder to see a tall, lanky guy saunter into the room.

For a second, she could have sworn her heart literally stopped in her chest and her blood froze.

"Finn?"


	2. Chapter 2: Not So Easy After All

**_A/N: OOH I love writing a Famous!Sam...it's so fun. By the way, the song in this chapter is "Easy." For those of you who've read "Beauty Devine" that's the song Finn and Sam sang in my version of "Duets."_**

**_Bigger: Yeah, I agree. I really like writing this new Sam!_**

**_Rain: I love Kurt, too C: I hope you like Sam more_**

* * *

_Ever since we met, I only shoot up with your perfume  
It's the only thing that makes me feel as good as you do  
Ever since we met, I have just one regret to live through  
And that one regret is you  
_

_How does a heart love if no one has noticed its presence?  
And where does love go?  
Trembling hands play my heart like a drum  
But the beat's gone and lost in the show  
_

_You have set your heart on haunting me forever  
From the start, it's never silent  
_

Panic! At the Disco — Nearly Witches

* * *

Seeing Sam threw Finn for one hell of a loop. He'd heard her song multiple times and heard almost every single opinion about her. Some said that her voice was awesome, some said she was awful, some just thought she was hot, and some thought she desperately needed cosmetic surgery.

Her raven hair was longer and more shaggy than before, that one lock of hair he was constantly brushing out of her pale face flopped into her pale blue eyes. Her skin was tanner now, obviously paying homage to her Spanish/Irish heritage.

"Hi," was all he could say once everyone left. Even her style seemed different. It was more laid-back than the edgy, almost punk style she'd donned in high school. She wore a pair of purple skinny jeans, a cropped heather gray T-shirt with a wolf face, and a pair of black studded cowboy ankle boots. He recognized his old aviators perched on top of her head.

"Hey there, stranger," she said, hopping down from the piano. The last he'd heard, her song had gone into the top hundred on the charts and burned through the others like wildfire. He hadn't seen her since the day she left for LA with Puck. Surprisingly, it felt natural to pull her into an embrace. She stood tiptoe to wrap her arms around his muscular frame. "How have you been?"

"Busy, I've been really busy," he replied. He gestured her to follow him and she fell in step by his side. During boot camp, he'd thought about calling her. If anyone had any idea about what life in the Army was like, it was Samantha Devine. She was still beautiful, but those expressive blue eyes had their guard up. He supposed he deserved that.

"Last I heard, you were in basic at Bennie in Georgia," she commented. He gave her a confused look until she laughed. "Fort Benning. Some brats like to shorten the name of the bases. Feels a lot less formal that way," she explained.

"Yeah, until I shot myself," he replied. Sam stopped in her tracks, her mouth forming a perfect 'O.' "I was cleaning my rifle and I shot myself through the thigh. I got released on a semi-honorable discharge."

Her eyelashes fluttered in surprise until she snorted and she bit her lip in trying to smother her giggles. It hurt that she did that and the hurt surprised him.

"Don't laugh at me," Finn scolded her. She grinned at him, jogging to catch up.

"Sorry, it just took me off guard," she said. "I wasn't laughing at you, I promise."

They stood on the stage at the auditorium, staring out at the red velvet chairs of the audience.

"This stage has a lot of memories," she commented, pacing on the scuffed hardwood. For Finn with Rachel, but if he was getting Sam in a civilized conversation, he wasn't bringing that up and reopening that can of worms.

"You did such an amazing version of 'Titanium'," he said instead. She smiled shyly and stared at her boots. "Come on, you've gotta be getting more compliments than that."

"I get 'voice of an angel' quite a bit and other purple-prosy stuff, but I don't really get called amazing," she replied. She sighed and shrugged. "I guess deep down, I'm just the girl who went to sing at the right club at the right time. I love doing what I do because it's me doing it. I'm not in anyone's shadow in LA."

He knew she'd felt second-best to Rachel during senior year. It was hard for her to stand in the background and be quiet. It hurt her even worse when Finn had gotten back together with Rachel.

"If anyone can make it, it's you, Sam," he told her. "I meant what I said. You're probably the most talented and the most creative person I know. You take things and you make them into your anthem."

"Then why am I so stuck with this new song?" she lamented, smacking her palm to her forehead. "It's like, I had all of this inspiration, but suddenly...I don't know, it just...kinda left."

Finn smirked and looked around. "Maybe you just need to go back to the basics for a bit," he suggested. Sam planted her hands on her hips, giving him a 'duh' look.

"Great idea, Finn! I think I'll just go back to Lima so I can find the old me. I already did that, that's why I'm here now!" she said. She clenched her fists for a second, then shook her hands. "Why the hell can't I think clearly?"

"Because you're over thinking," he replied. "The Sam I know didn't like to think. She just...did."

"Well, this Sam's career is depending on me thinking all the time," she complained. She was on the verge of a breakdown. Her eyes were filling with tears and she stamped her foot. The sound of the heel of her boot colliding with the hardwood echoed in the still air. "What if this is it for me? What if I can't produce another hit?"

"Then you'll just chalk it up to something you tried and didn't work out for you. Kinda like I did with the Army. I tried it and it didn't work out for me," he answered. Her glassy blue eyes lifted to meet his and she wiped her eyes. "But this is something you've worked so hard for. Would you really let yourself crash and burn without giving it one hundred and ten percent?"

She shook her head.

"How about we do the song that kind of started it all?" he proposed. He reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone, turning the volume all the way up. After singing it with her, he'd fallen in love with the song. As well as her, though he didn't know it until later. The instrumental played through the speakers and he pulled out a couple of stools and she pulled herself on one of them.

_We broke up, yeah, it's tough  
__Most guys would've been crushed  
__Wasting their time wondering where they went wrong  
__No way, not me, hey, I'm doing just fine  
__I'm not afraid of moving on_

_It's easy, going out on Friday night  
It's easy every time I see her out  
I can smile, live it up  
The way a single guy does  
But what she, what she don't know  
Is how hard it is to make it look so easy_

Finn wasn't sure if Sam would sing back. He wouldn't blame her if she didn't. What he did to her was stupid and awful. He'd gotten scared that she'd end up like Quinn and Rachel and cheat on him in Barcelona, but she didn't. And he'd broken her heart before she'd gotten the chance to do the same, only to hurt himself in the process.

Then she sang.

_The truth is, I miss lying in those arms of his  
__But I don't ever let it show  
__I laugh and I act like I'm having the time of my life  
__As far as he knows, it's easy, going out on Friday night  
__Easy every time I see him out  
__I can smile, live it up, the way a single girl does  
__But what he, what he don't know  
__Is how hard it is to make it look so easy, oh, it's easy_

_Oh, it's easy, going out on Friday night  
Oh, it's easy, every time I see him out  
I can smile, live it up, forget about the way it was  
But what she, oh what he don't know  
Is how hard it is to make it look so easy_

She looked over at him and hopped down from the stool.

"Look, Finn, I..." she trailed off. She played with her hair, patting the top of her head to find her sunglasses. She was panicking now. "I...just..."

"I understand," he told her. Sam exhaled forcefully, her gaze lifting. Finn felt like he'd been punched in the heart by the pain he saw there. Pain he caused because he'd been too damn insecure. And then the pain Rachel caused him came back tenfold. "Look, if I stepped over the line at all..."

"Don't worry about it," she brushed it off. She smoothed the front of her cropped shirt and she turned around. "I just...I think I'm gonna go."

Sam turned on her heel to walk away and Finn grabbed her arm without thinking.

"Can I pick you up later so we can...talk?" he said. She looked around and sighed.

"Pick me up at eight. I'm staying at my dad's," she told him. He remembered Donald saying that Sam was paying the rent in their old house so he could stay there.

"Blue raspberry slush and flaming hot Cheetos?" he remarked. There was that old sparkle in her pretty blue eyes and she giggled that musical laugh.

"You know me too well," she snickered, squeezing his hand.


	3. Chapter 3: Colliding

_**A/N: Spoilers for 3x14 "On My Way." Listen to Joanna Pacitti's "Collide" (which she actually wrote. I do not own this song) because it's fantastic. Also, for the song that describes Sam's feelings about getting dumped, listen to "Impossible" by Shontelle and "Why Can't I?" by Liz Phair**_

_**Bigger: Yes, young love indeed lol**_

_**Rain: Psh, qurl, you don't gotta worry xD I'm glad you liked the emotion of the chapter. **_

* * *

_I was June and you were my Johnny Cash  
Never one without the other, we made a pact  
Sometimes when I miss you  
I put those records on, whoa  
_

_But in another life, I would be your girl  
We'd keep all our promises, be us against the world  
In another life, I would make you stay  
So I don't have to say you were the one that got away  
_

_All this money can't buy me a time machine, no  
Can't replace you with a million rings, no  
I should have told you what you meant to me, whoa  
'Cause now I pay the price_

Katy Perry — The One That Got Away

* * *

_Regionals in McKinley's auditorium. Sam fought viciously for a solo against Rachel and ultimately won, thanks to the theme. "Inspiration." Samantha Devine was 'inspiration objectified,' according to Finn. She examined her reflection in the mirror, taking in her black silk choir dress. Rachel insisted on gold sashes, which washed out just about everyone but her. Nothing but the best for Rachel freaking Berry._

_"You're not gonna let anyone ruin this for you, Samantha," she told herself. This was her moment. Karofsky had tried to commit suicide because of bullying, Samantha had been shot because of bullying. If anyone could deliver the message of inspiration, it was her. "This is my moment."_

_She played with the ends of her new curls, fixing the gold headband in her hair._

_"You look great," a quiet voice came from the doorway. Sam looked over and saw Rachel leaning against it, gnawing on her lip apprehensively. "And um, you picked a good song for the solo. I know you're going to help us win."_

_"Thank you," she replied. She stood up from her stool after applying the rest of her sparkly lip gloss and set the tube down. "We're going to win this."_

_"Look, I know you're upset with me because of earlier on in the year..." Rachel started to say. Sam narrowed her eyes, gritting her teeth. "And it's my fault. I acknowledge that."_

_"You knew nothing was going on between me and Jesse, yet you decided to screw me over anyways. That's what I don't get, Rachel. I was nothing but nice to you, I stood up for you against Santana and Quinn and you decided to completely shit on that. When you stuck your nose where it didn't belong, it meant that I wasn't anything to you. And for you to rub your engagement in my face like I'm some girl Finn screwed around with...that means you didn't have any respect for me. That's what pisses me off. I'll forgive you someday, but that day isn't today," she informed her when her former friend was done. She shoved past Rachel in time for the Troubletones to finish their cover of Kelly Clarkson._

_The lights dimmed and the opening for 'Titanium' started. Sam strutted out on the stage, lowering her head and resting her hands behind her back. She slowly counted to three before lifting her head and singing._

_You shouted out, but I can't hear a word you say  
I'm talking loud, not saying much  
I'm criticized, but all your bullets ricochet  
Shoot me down, but I get up_

_She turned to hear Rachel, Jana, Quinn and Santana join in with a harmony. A smile cracked on her lips when Santana winked at her._

_I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose  
Fire away, fire away  
Ricochet, you take your aim  
Fire away, fire away  
You shoot me down, but I won't fall  
I am titanium_  
_You shoot me down, but I won't fall  
I am titanium_

_Cut me down, but it's you who have further to fall  
Ghost town and haunted love  
Raise your voice  
Sticks and stones may break my bones  
I'm talking loud, not saying much_

_I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose  
Fire away, fire away  
Ricochet, you take your aim  
Fire away, fire away  
You shoot me down, but I won't fall  
I am titanium  
You shoot me down, but I won't fall  
I am titanium, I am titanium, I am titanium_

_Stone-hard, machine gun  
Fired at the ones who run  
Stone-hard, those bulletproof guns_

_You shoot me down, but I won't fall  
I am titanium  
You shoot me down, but I won't fall  
I am titanium  
You shoot me down, but I won't fall  
I am titanium  
I am titanium_

_Sam knew when the song died down that she hit the last note with perfection. The audience roared in applause and she received a standing ovation. She grabbed Quinn's and Jana's hands and ran off the stage. The sound of the applause echoed backstage and she was greeted with a massive hug from Orion and Rory._

_When the New Directions won Regionals, Sam felt herself being pulled to the front of the room by Jana._

_"We've put it to a vote, which was once again unanimous. Our new MVP of the season is Miss Samantha Devine!" Mr. Schue said, gesturing to her. Sam accepted the little trophy with a shy smile. "I think we can definitely chalk this up to one major win for the New Directions. We took that theme and we made it our anthem once more."_

_"I gotta say it's kind of ironic that Thing 1 sang a song about being bulletproof when she's been shot before," Orion piped up from the front row. Jana swatted his arm playfully, her brown eyes sparkling teasingly. "But you earned it, girl."_

_"Thanks, Rio. You kind of nailed your solo, too," Sam replied with a roll of her eyes._

* * *

Sam sat down on the couch at home, her fingers trailing over the strings. So far, she'd gotten down the first few lines of the first verse. She glanced at Mike McAllery perched on the piano bench, eyeing her closely.

"What do you think of this?" she asked, strumming out the first few notes of the song.

_Something had to change, weighing on your mind  
__Something I don't know, that I can't describe  
__We're slipping, we're falling, we're fading fast, so fast  
And everything's a mess, don't know where to start  
Everything we knew almost broken apart_

"It's really good," he replied. Sam chewed on the inside of her lip as she watched him.

Why couldn't she have been happy with Mike like she was in the middle of senior year? He had been damn near perfect to her, but her mind couldn't stop wandering to Finn. Mike was damn hot and had a real sense of humor, one that was similar to hers. He still had that dorky cuteness that made the majority of the girls swoon. In another world, they would have been perfect together.

But no, Finn remained in her thoughts. Seeing him threw her for a loop. He was dorky and cute and had those big puppy-dog eyes that made it nearly impossible for her to say no to him.

_I'm willing to take it, to put it in the past_

She sighed and leaned back against the couch. "I just wrote that off the top of my head," she said. Who knew? Maybe she'd be back in LA within the next couple of days. She jotted down the line and stared at the piece of paper blankly. With it being autumn, mangoes were out of season and she couldn't rely on it to, as Jesse put it, 'spark her muse.' "And now, I got nothing. I need to think of a chorus and then it's usually easy."

_No, it's not, _she thought. Nothing was ever easy.

_Oh, it's easy, going out on Friday night, _her mind hummed and then she shook her head. _Quit singing that damn song, because then you'll start thinking about..._

Dammit, she was thinking about Finn again. And those painful memories of senior year, how hurt she'd been when she found out he got back together with Rachel. She'd yanked off the necklace he'd given her as a welcome-home present and threw it at Rachel, storming out the door.

Sam would never admit it, but she had wanted him to come after her, to tell her it was a mistake. Somehow, her new song became the tune to Liz Phair's 'Why Can't I?' and she became increasingly frustrated.

_A promise that we made underneath the sky  
To never sleep alone  
_

She tested the words, rolling them around in her mind. This could work. Becoming frustrated with how her life was going was good for her music.

* * *

_"How could you?" her voice was a whisper as she stared up at him with glassy blue eyes. Finn felt his heart being stabbed as he watched her. He caused this and he betrayed the only girl who never did anything wrong to him. "I left Spain early so I could be with you and you..."_

_He betrayed Sam. She had every right to throw things and be upset. Hell, he wanted her to. He deserved it for leaving her for Rachel. Rachel had preyed on his insecurities, but it was just as much his fault as it was hers. _

_Then Sam faced her. "How could _you_? That whole 'best friends' thing was just a game for you?! How long did you wait before going after him?" she snarled._

_Rachel sat, stunned. She couldn't say anything. Sam gripped the silver chain of the necklace Finn had given her and ripped it off her neck, throwing it at Rachel._

_"Keep it, it's obviously yours." _

_With that, she stormed out the door in tears._

Finn stood on the front porch, staring at the daunting red door before him. The last time he'd been there, he had come to say goodbye to her before she left for LA with Puck.

Now he was seeing her again. The front door opened and Mike McAllery sauntered out. Sam stood barefoot in the foyer, looking very much like the girl Finn had known and loved. She wore a pair of loose-fitting boot-cut jeans and a faceless black T-shirt, her dark hair pulled back in a messy pony-tail. Her pale face lacked makeup, which washed out most girls, but Finn had always loved the natural look on her. Those freckles always made her look so sweet and girly.

Those pale blue eyes met Finn's browns and she groaned. "I forgot. Come on in and I'll be ready in about twenty minutes," she told him.

"What you're wearing is fine," he commented. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

"I was just working on my song. I got the first verse done and some of the second; I can't seem to get the chorus yet," she explained. The house looked exactly the same as it had the last time he had been in there.

It was mysteriously void of her parents. Patrick and Adrienne had nearly divorced last year when she cheated on him, but he took her back and forgave her.

"Where are your parents? I'm kind of worried your dad might kill me," he commented. She snorted.

"Burt majorly saved his ass last year. There's no way on God's vast Earth that Daddy would do anything to hurt you in any way. They're at a party at the St. James's, anyways. You asking me to hang out tonight gave me an out," she replied.

What was he thinking? Sam wasn't just some girl visiting from college. She was a professional singer on holiday to write her next biggest hit. What did he expect to happen? That when they saw each other, they would just rekindle their relationship and the nightmare that was senior year would be forgotten? She was only in town for a week. At the end of the week, she would go back to LA and live the lifestyle she'd been living since arriving there. Even if she wanted him back, which was doubtful, there was that long distance between them to the tune of two thousand miles.

"Isn't Jesse the one who usually helps you?" he asked. She grinned at him sheepishly before rubbing the back of her neck.

"He and I haven't talked much since the whole debacle of last year," she admitted. That was surprising. The two of them had always seemed close; Sam had always called Jesse one of her brothers. "So, Mike's been pretty much no help at all, except to tell me my song's good."

"I'm sure it is," he commented, taking his place on the couch. There was a disturbing lack of Shasta, which saddened him. Finn loved Shasta. While Sam was upstairs, his gaze dropped on a few sheets of paper with words scrawled on it, along with notes on it. This was her new song.

_Something had to change, weighing on your mind  
__Something I don't know, that I can't describe  
__We're slipping, we're falling, we're fading fast, so fast  
__And everything's a mess, don't know where to start  
__Everything we knew almost broken apart  
__I'm willing to take it, to put it in the past_

It was genius. He tested out the lyrics under his breath, marveling at it. With every song, she always sounded so vulnerable, like all her emotions were laid bare. Vulnerability was always her strong suit.

"Like it?" she asked from the doorway. She had a pair of Converses, a little bit of makeup on, and her coat draped over her arm.

"This is the song you started to write after we broke up," he stated quietly. Sam pursed her lips and nodded.

"'Together Without You' was my angry song. This song, the unnamed one...it helped me move forward," she explained. Finn looked back down at the sheet to see different words jotted down across. One phrase jumped out at him.

_So, don't leave, still a light inside  
__Telling me all we need is time_

"Can I hear it?" he requested. She smiled and sat down on the couch, picking up her guitar from the stand in the corner. Her fingers plucked at the strings, her voice soft and sweet. When she approached the end of that little phrase he liked, she stopped.

_Just breathe, put your hand in mine  
__Look into my eyes, let it all collide, collide, collide  
__Put your hand in mine, look into my eyes  
__All we need is time_

_A promise that we made underneath the sky  
To never sleep alone_

"That's it," she said. "After that, I'm totally just...stuck."

Finn studied the words intently. "What about 'to never say goodbye' added on to it?" he suggested. Sam strummed out the chords, testing out the lyrics.

_Remember, forever is worth the fight, that's right_

"It usually comes so easy to me after I get through writer's block," she said. She flipped through different pages of different songs.

_And so I'll take the pain and you're the reason why  
__I'm never giving up on how I live my life, a life with you, oh, oh_

"Samantha Devine...unplugged," he joked. She laughed and strummed out the chords.

_So, don't leave, still a light inside  
__Telling me all we need is time  
__Just breathe, put your hand in mine  
__Look into my eyes, let it all collide, collide, collide  
__Put your hand in mine, look into my eyes  
__All we need is time_

"I think you just helped me write a song," she remarked.


	4. Chapter 4: Glease

**_A/N: I love writing this story, I really do...  
_**

**_Rain: I know, but if you ever watch it from the beginning, it's a very Rachel thing to do. And that Chris Brown song is a good one, by the way.  
_**

* * *

_Know all about, yeah, 'bout your reputation  
And now it's bound to be a heartbreak situation  
__But I can't help it if I'm helpless  
Every time I'm where you are  
You walk in and my strength walks out the door  
Say my name and I can't fight it anymore  
Oh, I know I should go  
But I need your touch just too damn much_

_And loving you, yeah, isn't really something I should do  
Shouldn't wanna spend my time with you, yeah  
Well, I should try to be strong  
But baby, you're the right kind of wrong  
Yeah, baby, you're the right kind of wrong  
_

_I should try to run but I just can't seem to  
'Cause every time I run, you're the one that I run to  
Can't do without what you do to me  
I think I'm getting in too deep, yeah  
_

LeAnn Rimes - Right Kind of Wrong

* * *

Sam missed hanging around the mechanic's garage. The whine of drills whirring, the clack-clack-clack of a wrench being turned, and classic rock blaring from the old boombox sitting on the windowsill were familiar sounds to her. Her father wiped his large hands on a greasy red rag and tossed it on his tool station and Sam shifted to catch Donald's eye.

"Hi, Daddy," she greeted. He arched a thick brow until she held up the Arby's bag. "You wanted a French-dipped sandwich, curly fries, and Pepsi, right? Your doctor's gonna kill me."

He accepted it with a sheepish grin. "I'll share my curly fries with you," he offered. She giggled and set the bag on the cart, opening the bag and took out a fry, popping it in her mouth.

"You'd better. And one of those sandwiches are for me. You know Burt doesn't care that I'm here as long as I don't get in the way," she responded. She set down her sandwich and the cup of French onion broth. "And I bought you a chocolate turnover."

"I'll fight you for it, ankle-biter," Donald informed her, peeking into the bag. Sam giggled and watched as Finn walked by.

"You see how he talks to me, Finn? This is the man your stepdad hired to help you around the shop," she told him, leaning her head back. He laughed at her mock hurt expression.

"Oh, write a song about it," Donald countered. Finn snorted in laughter and plucked a fry from the bag. "Boy, you'd better hope that you stole that from Sammie."

"I bought those damn fries!" Sam protested. She held up the container to share more fries with Finn. "And he's technically your boss, so you gotta suck up to him."

"I'm a Devine; we don't suck up to anyone," her father declared. Sam rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Hey, look, can I ask your help with something, Sam? I'm having the guys here to run through _Greased Lightning _and I want a professional's opinion about the vocals and choreography," Finn requested. She arched an eyebrow, surveying her old boyfriend from her eyelashes.

"Isn't that what you have Mike and Mercedes for?" she wanted to ask. Instead, she settled for taking a (forced) sip of her drink and nodded, hopping down from her stool.

"Sure. When are they coming?"

* * *

Finn snuck glances at Sam every few moments to see her watching them intently. He knew when she was paying attention; her arms folded across her chest, her finger curled over her mouth, her brilliant blue eyes narrowed and she always leaned her weight on to her left leg.

If he was honest, he felt a little better with her opinion. Everyone else would baby him, but Sam lived in _LA. _She dealt with professionals like this every day. That, and when they were dating, they watched both _Grease _movies at least once a week and she listened to the soundtrack on her iPhone constantly.

"Well?" Ryder prompted when they finished. Sam glanced at Finn and he felt a sour ball in his stomach. Not only was she a professional, but Samantha Devine was infamous for her blunt, straight-no-chaser attitude.

"You need twice the energy and a few of your vocals were a little flat and slightly pitchy," she offered. "The dancing was...refreshing."

That was her being nice. Her mother would have ripped them a new one and tore down the performance completely. Honestly, Finn had expected her to be a lot harsher.

"Ryder, you captured your character nicely. You could use a bit more practice with the dancing, it seemed a bit too...raw."

The sophomore opened his mouth to argue, only to shut it again when Sam gave him a steely glare.

"And that's a professional singer/songwriter talking," Finn added. "I've asked Thing 1 here to be our critic. She's seen the movie and the play more times than anyone else I know and she's good about giving an honest opinion."

"Better it be me than my mother," Sam responded. The guys left soon after and Finn turned to face her. She looked sympathetic, her features had softened a lot. "Look, Finn, you and I have had our differences and I'm glad you respect my opinion and talent and obsession with classic musicals..."

He dreaded her next words. Finn was selfish with her; they had spent every day together since she got back to Lima and he didn't want to give her back yet.

"But we can't keep doing this. I can't keep spending time with you one on one like I have been. It's not that I haven't enjoyed it, but I'm starting to...to remember how things used to be and I can't do that anymore. I can't let myself get distracted by you. I thought being around you again would get you out of my system, Finn, but you're not," she admitted.

Hearing the words out in the open made him realize he had done the same thing.

"I thought you were out of my system when I moved to LA after graduation. I thought you-you were out of my system when I didn't hear from you at all for six months, despite the fact you said you wanted to keep in touch with me. You were out of my system until I came back here and I'm sick of trying to. I'm leaving for LA after the show and I think it's best if we don't keep in contact. If you're taking over for Mr. Schue, your focus is gonna need to be on the club," she told him. Tears pooled in her eyes and her breath came out ragged through her mouth.

What he was about to do was either the dumbest idea ever, but he had to give it a shot. He tucked a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, cupping her chin up and smoothed away the tear with his thumb.

"I know, Sammie," he replied, caressing her cheekbone. Her hand rested on his wrist, but she didn't pull away. His breath caught in his throat when their gazes locked. Rachel melted from his mind and he finally ended the battle he'd been warring inside of him for the past year. It was Sam. It had always been her and it would always be. His thumb smoothed over her full lower lip and he wound his free arm around her slender waist, resting his hand on the small of her back, bunching his fingers in the silky texture of her black tank top.

Then he leaned in, thankful for the heels of the boots she wore, grazing his lips to hers.

* * *

Sam hadn't expected her body's reaction. Her fingers wound into that little patch of hair on the back of his neck, stretching further on her toes to return the kiss; four and a half-inch heels could only get her so far. It was like she was in some sort of out-of-body experience or having some sort of Finn-related relapse. The hand on her lower back pulled her closer and her lips parted to deepen the kiss. His tongue traced the line of her lower lip before she opened her mouth to accept him.

It took him seconds to remember that she went absolutely nuts when he traced his tongue along the roof of her mouth. A shiver ran down her spine and she greedily returned the kiss, pressing herself into his broad chest. Screw Santana's warnings, screw her mind screaming at her to stop, screw everything. She was leaving Saturday morning for LA and if she wanted to commit emotional suicide before then, then she would.

The sky could fall on her head but she wouldn't care. She was in love with a guy who she couldn't be with. A guy she couldn't trust, a guy who was no good for her.

She was pretty sure they wrote songs about that. There weren't any she could think of in that moment, what with her mind in utter disbelief and her mouth very busy.

Tongues fought for dominance, hands couldn't feel enough, bodies couldn't press any closer together. She wasn't sure what the implications were of their actions, but she didn't care. For those few glorious moments, she felt like she won. The worn metal of the car was firm under her body as she arched up to meet him.

"Oh, my God." Sam pulled her head away to see Artie, Jake, Ryder, Mike and Thing 2 standing in the doorway, looking amused. "Looks like we don't even need to fix up the car if Finn's already getting tail on the hood."

Thing 2

"Someone should probably hose those two down if they're getting to baby-making," Artie remarked. Sam blushed furiously and fixed her tank top, running her fingers through her dark hair.

Busted.

"If anyone says anything, I'm denying it," she informed them. Shit, if her father found out about what just transpired not twenty feet away from him, he would go completely crazy.

"We barely know you, so...who would we really tell?" Jake pointed out. Sam slid off the car and stood up.

"That's sensitive information. I'm not popular enough to where people are wondering where I go for a week, but they'll eat it up if they think I'm doing a backwoods boy from Ohio," she explained. She glanced up at Finn. "No offense."

"Oh, none taken," he responded. She picked up her bag from the floor by the door and glanced over her shoulder.

"We're done here," she told him.


	5. Chapter 5: Glease: Letting Go

_**A/N: The Finn/Rachel bit is actually word for word. I watched the part of it on YouTube. Also, definitely give this song a listen. It's totally fantastic.  
**_

_**Rain: I actually do like Ryder, just not for Marley lol I'm Jarley all the way! Glad you liked the kiss part...it took me a bit to write lol**_

_**Rose: Nice to meet you and thanks!**_

* * *

_Wait it out till the light  
Take a breath, say goodnight  
But don't ever go away  
Wait around to find the time  
Only you can take what's mine  
But don't ever go away, I'll be waiting  
I need to let it go_

_Fade it out into the light  
All these years, we'll never get it right  
I need to let it go, I need to let it go, I need to let it go  
No more reasons to deny that I believed that you were mine  
I need to let it go, I need to let it go, I need to let it..._

_A chance to change or stay the same  
One night without the blame that'll never go away  
Only you can make it right  
To walk away and have no fight, but don't ever go away  
I'll be waiting  
I need to let it go_

Cavo — Let It Go (This is seriously my favorite song. Like, ever)

* * *

Sam took in the darkened halls of McKinley, trailing her finger along the cold, steel lockers. The dim lights illuminated two people chatting by two lockers. She was immediately taken back to senior year and she didn't need to go any closer to see who they were. Rachel Berry and Kurt Hummel.

She lifted her chin and strode over confidently with her best smile. "Kurt!" she greeted him. He enveloped her in a tight hug then held her at arms' length, surveying her outfit. "Does my ensemble fit your standards?" She arched a playful eyebrow as he spun her around.

The double-breasted black tuxedo-coat style dress fell to mid-thigh and she had paired it with a pair of six-inch mint-green stilettos to elongate her legs. Her hair was down, loose over her shoulders and tightened with curls.

"Can I just say that your dress is just fantastic? Isabelle's been frothing over that Balmain since it released and it's sold out from Saks Fifth Avenue and Barney's," he commented, twirling her around. "And please tell me those pumps are Giuseppe. They're doing absolute wonders for your legs."

"Yeah, they are. I'm still learning designer, though. I borrowed them from a friend of mine. She hardly ever wears them anymore and thought they looked better on me than her," Sam replied, extending a leg to look at her shoe. Her icy blue gaze flicked up to meet Rachel's. This was the first time she saw her since graduation. "Hey, Kurt, could you give me and Rachel a minute?"

A flash of fear flickered in Rachel's dark brown eyes and both girls looked at Kurt, who nodded his consent and disappeared.

"You're not gonna kill me, are you?" Rachel asked with a nervous laugh. She held her clutch in front of Sam, acting as a barrier.

"Not where there are witnesses," Sam replied, biting her lip. God, now she was nervous. She took in Rachel's black tweed top and black shorts, the pair of satiny black pumps she wore looked amazing on her. In fact, Rachel Berry looked completely different from the girl who wore dorky reindeer sweaters and loafers. Her long brown hair had hombre highlights, curled over her shoulders and ending just below her breasts, her style was even sexy and a lot more grown up. This was once her best friend and her confidante. She told her everything and at the moment, she wanted to have that back more than anything.

"I saw you on _The Wendi Show_ the other day and I have to admit that I was insanely jealous," Rachel admitted. "You were really cool."

Sam felt a shy smile flicker on her lips and she nodded. "Thanks," she said. Things had become awkward between them and she hated it. "So...how's NYADA? Is it as fabulous as you dreamed it would be?"

Rachel grinned broadly. "Everything and more. It's really challenging, but there's this teacher there..." she trailed off.

"Let me guess...psycho hose beast?" Sam guessed, leaning against the lockers. This was the first conversation between them that didn't leave her wanting to strangle her. It was a start. Rachel giggled.

"To the hundredth degree," she agreed. "Do you know of Cassandra July?"

The name rang a distant bell. "She was the bitch that stopped a performance because someone answered a phone call, right? Totally trashed her rep?" Sam commented, tilting her head.

Rachel nodded. "Yeah and she's just...awful," she replied.

"Sounds like it. My aunt worked with her once and hated her," Sam said. She glanced up at the clock and turned around. "Hey, the show's about to start. We should probably go to our seats."

"Yeah, good idea," Rachel agreed. Sam held out her arm and Rachel looped hers through it with a laugh. "Think we can go get some coffee later?"

"Yes, absolutely. We have so much to catch up on and I have to get my rec room set up to have a bunch of girls over for a New Directions style slumber party. You should definitely come over, too, it'll be like old times," she suggested.

"We could intimidate them with our very memorable rendition of _My Cowboy _from Burning Bridges," Rachel said. Sam snapped her fingers and nodded her agreement.

"I'm still new to walking in, like, six-inch shoes, so you're gonna have to help me walk. By the end of the night, I think I might cry," she giggled. "I'm telling you, Berry, you just might have to carry me. Or have Kurt do it."

"Didn't you bring your backup sneakers? That's your signature."

"This is a thirty-nine hundred-dollar limited edition Balmain dress. If I wore Converses with this dress, I'm honestly afraid Kurt might shoot me. Thank God I at least had the good sense to paint my toes. If I go barefoot, my piggies look freaking fabulous before freezing off."

* * *

_**[If you haven't seen 'Glease', do not read on!]**_

Finn watched Rachel walk out of the bathroom, dried tears on her pretty face. Her usually bright brown eyes were red-rimmed and she sniffled. Usually, she would break down in tears and tell him what was wrong and the fact she came from the girls' bathroom told him two things.

Either Sam and Rachel faced down in the hallway and Rachel was at the receiving end of what the New Directions called "Devine Intervention" or she was crying over something that happened in New York.

"You missed the curtain call. Why are you crying?" he asked. She shook her head and set her chin up.

"I'd rather not talk about it," she said softly, her gaze dropping to the tiles on the floor.

"Were you crying about me?" he inquired curiously.

"I...I wasn't crying about you."

Then it hit him. It wasn't Sam that lashed out at her and she wasn't crying over him. That left one person that could possibly make her cry.

Brody Weston, the guy she had an admitted attraction to at NYADA.

"Oh...it's about him...isn't it? Brody? I just...I didn't think you'd move on that fast," he commented.

"It's not that," she protested, her gaze lifting to meet his.

"But I know you. I know you have four types of crying. There's your fake crying when you want something, then, which always involves a tissue, you've got the singing crying, which can't be, the disappointed crying, which involves sobbing. Then there's crying over a guy, which I know very well...because it used to be reserved for me," he said.

It clicked in his mind once again. Usually, he would feel lingering resentment towards his ex-girlfriends, but he didn't feel anything for the girl standing in front of him but sadness.

Rachel was quiet, which told him everything he needed to know. Something happened between her and Brody and she was clearly very upset over it, which led him to believe it was the latter type of crying.

She finally shrugged and spread her arms out in a blasé way. "Well...I told you we shouldn't talk about this," she pointed out.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about anything anymore," he suggested, looking at her. Rachel was his first real love. Finn would always have that sort of love for her, but while he talked to her, he thought about one girl.

Sam.

There was unfinished business with her and he had a sinking feeling that it would always be there. He didn't have her out of his system yet and he knew she was right. She wasn't out of his system like he wasn't out of hers. He wasn't sure what to do about that yet, but if he continued to talk to Rachel, he wouldn't ever find out.

"Is that really what you want?" Rachel asked, the kicked puppy look returning to her soft doe eyes.

"Yes," Finn replied. She nodded her consent and pursed her full lips. He could see the hurt, the wistfulness, but no anger. The old Rachel Berry would have flipped out over those words, but this new, confident Rachel seemed more submissive. "No contact. Not even in song. When you come back to visit, I don't want to know about it."

"Yeah," she agreed slowly. "I think that's good. Now, I don't really know what's going to happen between us, but you used to be the guy that would make me feel like the most special girl in the whole world. And...it doesn't feel that way anymore." Finn looked away politely, staring at the scratches and the scuffs etched on the ugly beige lockers to his right. "Now it just feels sad and confusing. And the worst part is that...it doesn't even feel that bad anymore."

"And whatever happened with this Brody guy made you cry and...this doesn't," he stated. She nodded and he looked up to see Sam walk into the hallway, Kurt on her arm. That made him feel sad. He was still in love with a girl who didn't have room for him in her life.

She was the girl who had never made him feel bad or insecure. Instead of tearing down his self-esteem like Quinn and Rachel did, she built him up and made him feel like a better version of himself. And to pay her back, he stabbed her in the back with her best friend. He needed to make it right, not let her go.

But her flight left at noon tomorrow. That gave him sixteen hours to fix this.

Rachel looked over her shoulder and looked back at Finn. "You still love Sam, Finn. She still loves you. Go fix this before it's too late," she told him.


	6. Chapter 6: Glease: The Long Goodbye

_**A/N: Now I'm tangled up between my Twilight story, this one, PLUS a R&I story...Melody, you need to make up your mind!**_

_**Rain: Aw, thanks C: **_

* * *

_This is the long goodbye  
Somebody tell me why  
Two lovers in love can't make it  
Just what kind of love keeps breaking a heart?  
No matter how hard I try, I always make you cry  
Come on, baby, it's over, let's face it  
All that's happening here is a long goodbye_

Brooks & Dunn — The Long Goodbye (Perfect for this story. It really, really is)

* * *

Sam thought a sleepover with the Glee girls was a good idea, but it turned out as one of her worst ones. They gossiped, giggled, talked about boys, but all Sam could think about was Finn. And the make-out session on the hood of that car.

Tomorrow, he was giving her a ride to the airport and it was a long two-hour drive to Columbus. Her flight left at two, then she wasn't having any contact with him for good.

She forced herself to leave the room during a marathon of _90210 _and make more popcorn. The nearly silent pitter-patter of feet on the tile floor told her she wasn't alone. When she shut the microwave door, she jumped when she saw Rachel standing by the counter. This looked like the Rachel Berry Sam had always known and bickered with occasionally. The girl she had once considered her sister.

"Look, I know that you're being very gracious in inviting me over to have a girls' night before I leave for New York in the morning, but I really...just _really _need some advice. I need some of your tough love," she stated. Her deep brown eyes glittered in the dim light of the kitchen and Sam exhaled deeply through her nose.

"I'm long past hating you, Rachel. Inviting you over tonight is my twisted apology slash awkward attempt at being friends with you again," she admitted. She hopped on the counter, swinging her bare legs. When her friend stared up at her, Sam finally patted the counter and helped her climb up. "God, how many times did we used to do this in the past?"

"Lots," Rachel replied. Her gaze dropped to the pink pajama pants she wore, splattered with gold stars. "Before I ask for your advice, I just...I want to apologize to you. I went behind your back with Finn when you didn't do anything to me. I don't have an excuse for that, but I couldn't even be thrilled at being together with him again because I lost my best friend in the process. There was so much I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't because I was afraid you'd deck me."

Sam chuckled and sat Indian-style on the counter. When the microwave beeped, Rachel opened the door and pulled it out, dumping the contents into the large red bowl. With a shrug, Sam popped a piece into her mouth and chewed while she listened.

"I wouldn't have, though. Mainly because I was afraid to get kicked out of school," she submitted. Until Carmen Defoe had pushed her too far and Sam snapped. It took Puck, Thing 2, Finn, and Sue to pull her off. Carmen sported two black eyes, a split lip, a missing tooth, and a dislocated jaw for weeks. "But go ahead."

"I met someone at school. His name's Brody and I really like him," Rachel said. Sam clapped a little for her. "And I felt really down after watching the play, because _You're the One That I Want _was the first song Finn and I sang together. Brody told me to call him if I ever needed someone to listen to me and Cassandra answered."

Sam craned her neck in shock. "Wait, your bitch dance teacher answered his phone? Why the hell was he touching his phone?" she asked. She had a feeling it was about to get a little more juicy. The heartbroken look on Rachel's face told her exactly what she needed to know. "No freaking way. Cassie July ponied your man?"

Rachel nodded and her shoulders shook in quiet sobs. "I don't even know what to do. How can I go into dance class when I get home and look her in the eye and know she's like that? All because I suggested that she try out for _The Glass Menagerie _and get back in the acting game. She actually said that _she _was the game."

Sam wrapped her arms around Rachel's shoulders and drew her into a hug. Rachel wrapped her arms around Sam's waist, the bowl of popcorn forgotten.

"You know you have a hold over Cassie's head now, right? You so own that bitch's ass now," Sam pointed out with a wicked smile. Her revenge-riddled mind began to race with different scenarios. "And my Aunt Nina is just conveniently on the board of the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts. I don't think she'd like knowing that she's spending hundred of thousands of dollars annually on a washed-up actress bullying her students and sleeping with her TA. Plus, you said Brody's a student, right?"

Rachel looked up at her in shock. "Y-Yeah, but I couldn't get him kicked out of school as revenge. And he doesn't know that I know."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Dammit, Rachel, you and your damn morals. If a guy does you wrong, you get even. That's what Taylor Swift does," she pointed out. "The Rachel Berry I know is one manipulative, conniving, sly bitch. If she could stab her best friend in the back for a guy, no offense, doll, she can take on one evil-minded bitch who's just handed you the grenade of a lifetime."

"That's also what _you _do, Sam. I'm not...like that anymore. It's her livelihood that I'd be threatening," Rachel replied.

"Then at least tell her you have connections. Throw a scare into her until she's kissing _your _ass, for a change," Sam begged. "Or else I'll have to when I go to New York for my album's photo shoot and I come visit you."

"I'd feel a lot better if you threatened her for me," Rachel confessed, her head resting on Sam's shoulder. Sam smirked, rubbing her arm.

"I'm like Taylor Swift and Miranda Lambert mixed. I don't think Cassie July will even know I'm coming," she declared.

* * *

Finn watched Sam hug the girls on the porch, slinging her huge black duffel bag over her shoulder. He looked away when she gave Rachel a lingering embrace.

That was good news, at least. Sam and Rachel were friends again. Then Sam's head lifted and he could feel her blue eyes on him from across the yard. Finn could tell she dressed part for comfort, the other part trying to look as non-sexy as she could in a pair of leggings and a black tank top underneath a cream and black striped cardigan, pairing it with a pair of simple black flats. Her hair was up in a messy pony-tail, bangs flopping into her pale, makeup-less face.

"You ready to go?" he asked finally. She looked over her shoulder and back at him, nodding mutely before hopping down the steps and walking past him.

"Thanks for the ride," she told him before opening the back door of the car and tossing the massive bag on the backseat. Everyone waved from the lawn as they pulled away from the curb. Finn kept quiet, but his mind raced with different thoughts.

How was she so cool about them ceasing contact, like he had with Rachel? Did she really have any feelings for him left?

He knew the answer to that unspoken question after he formed the words in his head. Yes, she did. Her downfall was that she couldn't lie with her eyes; her tone could be colder than ice, but her eyes always betrayed her. She was past her 'Devine Heartbreak' days after Rick Nelson.

The silence was becoming unbearable. "Look, can we talk about the other day?" he inquired.

"What is there to talk about? You showed me your performance of _Greased Lightning _and I gave my honest opinion on it. There's really nothing more to say," she replied, skirting around the issue. "I stand by that criticism."

"That's not what I mean and you know it. I mean what happened _after _that," he told her. He stole a glance in her direction to see her staring straight ahead of the windshield. She wouldn't let him look in her eyes, where her true emotions lay.

"I'm a singer in LA, Finn. There's no room for you in my life and there's no room for me in yours. When I get on that plane, we're done talking. It's what's best," she insisted.

"Who are you trying to convince, me or you?" he asked quietly.

That shut her up for a few minutes.

"Both," she admitted with a sigh. "You already proved that I can't trust you, Finn. What's a relationship without trust?"

"I stopped talking to Rachel for good this time. She's completely out of my life," he informed her. Sam was quiet again until she took a sip of the water bottle he bought her for the trip.

"You and I both know that she's never gonna be completely out of your life. There's too much history between you two," she pointed out.

"Like there is between you and me? You said you didn't want any contact after you leave, then we wind up making out on the hood of a lemon," he said. Once again, the usually talkative Samantha Devine he knew and loved fell silent.

"And we haven't done it since. I'd call it progress," she tried to joke lightly.

"Don't make jokes," he admonished her. She was mute once more.

"Finn, we don't have room in each other's life for the other now," she said softly. "Whether you want to admit it or not, it's the truth. I'm a professional singer now, you're taking over the Glee Club. It's not that I don't love you, because I do. I don't want to love you, but I do."

"We can make this work, Sam," he protested. He could see forever with this girl, the kind of forever they used to talk about. Getting married after graduation, having successful careers in music (a shared love) and settling down and having kids after touring a couple of times. They both wanted a big family with kids close together in age so they could grow up together and play together. "We can visit each other..."

"And how long would that last before it gets too expensive?" she pointed out. "I can't make it home every weekend and you can't make it out there. We'll talk every day, then that'll fade to a couple of times a week. Then that'll fade to once a week. Then once a month. Then we'll see each other and realize we both moved on or we'll argue and break up. If I stay in Ohio instead of going back to LA to chase down this music career, I know I'm going to end up resenting you. Same with you and the Glee club. If you don't chase this dream down, you'll end up resenting me and I don't want that for us. I hate to admit it, but when I look at you, I don't want to feel sad or angry or bitter like I used to. I want to look at the guy I'm gonna see forever with."

She was right. Sam often _was _right, something Finn would admit grudgingly.

"I can't be friends with you, either, that's why I said we shouldn't talk. Because when I talk to you, I'm gonna think of those times when we were together. And then I'm gonna get homesick. This is something I have to do," she added.

"I know," he murmured, gripping the steering wheel tighter. It felt like she punched him in the heart. Being with her felt right and it was time for him to make a choice.

Lima, Ohio to face being a loser and run a Glee club or go to Los Angeles, California and be with the girl he loved and who knew him better than he knew himself.

Then he felt her delicate hand on his, her thumb caressing the ridges of his knuckles. And he knew which choice was the best one.


	7. Chapter 7: Her Blank Page

**_A/N: Brief cliffhanger C: the song Sam sings in this chapter is "Blank Page" by Christina Aguilera. At the end of the chapter is the rest of "Blank Page" because I did the first two verses in the beginning of the chapter._**

**_Rainbow: Me, too! I'm really excited to write Sam taking on New York! _**

* * *

_So I'll drive home alone  
As I turn out the light  
I'll put his picture down  
And maybe get some sleep tonight  
_

_'Cause he's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar  
The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart  
He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do  
He's the time taken up, but there's never enough  
And he's all that I need to fall into  
_

Taylor Swift — Teardrops on my Guitar

* * *

Finn stood in the terminal with her, watching the flights on the screen. Columbus International to LAX, set to leave at two-thirteen pm promptly.

"This is it," he commented, his hand resting on the small of her back. Her head leaned on his shoulder, her fingers squeezing his.

"Yeah, I guess it is," she agreed with a sigh. He looked down at her to see her looking up at him with her inquisitive blue eyes. "So, this is where we say goodbye."

"I guess so," he replied softly. She dropped his hand from hers, biting her lip. The sound of her flight being announced over the intercom made them both look up. "Sam..."

She cut him off with a sweet, tender kiss. "If we're not gonna be talking anymore, I wanted that," she admitted gently. He gripped her tighter around her waist and returned the kiss. Her lips were soft against his, her hands gentle on his shoulders. "I love you."

He cupped her delicate face in his large hands, his thumbs smoothing away her tears. Tears clenched his throat and he kissed her again. "I love you so much."

For a heartbeat, she looked like she considered taking back the "no-contact" idea.

But he made his choice and he had to stick with it.

So he let her go.

* * *

Sam dragged her duffel bag through the gate and hesitated for a moment to look over her shoulder. Finn stood in the terminal, his handsome features heartbroken. For a split second, she considered going AWOL and going home with him. She wanted to more than she would ever say.

_I know there's hurt, I know there's pain,_  
_But people change, Lord knows I've been no saint_  
_In my own way, regret choices I've made_  
_How do I say I'm sorry? How do I say I'm sorry?_

_I was scared, I was unprepared  
Oh, for the things you said  
If I could undo that I hurt you  
I would do anything for us to make it through  
Draw me a smile and save me tonight  
I am a blank page waiting for you to bring me to life  
Paint me a heart, let me be your art  
I am a blank page waiting for life to start  
Let our hearts stop and beat as one together  
Let out hearts stop and beat as one forever  
_

The gate was dimly lit by sconces and she forced herself to walk toward the plane and not fall apart. A flight attendant helped her carry the massive duffel to her seat and she shoved it into the cubby. Her tears stung her eyes and trickled down her face.

"Here, honey, why don't you sit down?" the kind blonde attendant suggested. Sam nodded mutely and took her seat, leaning forward and wiped her eyes, sniffling. The plane began to move and she stared out the window until she got the green light to listen to music on her iPhone.

_How can I erase decisions I've made?  
How do I go back, what more can I say?  
All that remains are hearts filled with shame  
How do we say we're sorry? How do we say we're sorry_

_I was scared, I was unprepared_  
_Oh, for the things you said_  
_If I could undo that I hurt you_  
_I would do anything for us to make it through_  
_Draw me a smile and save me tonight_  
_I am a blank page waiting for you to bring me to life_  
_Paint me a heart, let me be your art_  
_I am a blank page waiting for life to start  
__Let our hearts stop and beat as one together  
__Let out hearts stop and beat as one forever_

The flight was long and tiring. She blinked back fresh tears as she mutely walked through each terminal. It was now too late to return back to Ohio, even if she wanted to.

Finally, the plane landed twelve hours later at LAX and she could barely function. Sam stood on her toes and scanned the airport, looking for Puck. He was a gigantic ass clown nine times out of ten, but the other times he was her best friend, the only one that wiped her tears away.

She spotted him out of the terminal and she ran over to him, dropping her duffel on the ground. He wrapped her in a tight hug and she let herself dissolve into tears.

"I still love him, Puck," she sobbed. Her chest burned with the previously unshed tears and she felt him hold her up. "All I could think about on the plane was when I could back home to see him." Puck grabbed her duffel from the ground and slung it over his shoulder.

"I'll drive you home so you can sleep, Sam. You need it, you look like hell. Then you can tell me what happened," he told her. Sam hadn't eaten at all today and her stomach snarled with hunger, but she ignored it. "I'll make you some food when we get there."

"Nothing vegan," she sniffled. He chuckled and slung his arm over her shoulder. "I want some ice cream or something."

"I know you, Devine. Rocky Road," he replied.

* * *

Sleep eluded her. Sam stared at the ceiling from her bedroom, Shasta curled up in a ball on the foot of the plush bed. Each time she closed her eyes, she imagined things differently. If she hadn't gone to Barcelona junior year, she wouldn't have lost Finn.

She was used to waking up in the night with regrets, but this was different. Now she _yearned _for her old life. Was she taking her new one for granted? She saw crime dramas based on how people killed for fame and money.

This time two years ago, she met the boy who would later destroy her heart then hold it captive with no plans to return it. She sat up in bed and Shasta's head lifted, fixing her with inquisitive blue eyes. Sam slid out of the comfort of her thick comforter in the chilly air-conditioned bedroom of her home.

She needed smoggy, angry-driver-filled air. She needed a walk.

She needed Nutella and marshmallow fluff on white bread and Diet Dr. Pepper. She needed an entire twenty-four case of Diet Dr. Pepper.

_The nectar of the gods, _she once declared. Even if she was in her pajamas, she didn't care.

Okay, Sam cared a little. She tugged off her pajama pants and tossed them on her bed. Puck lay passed out on her couch, snoring loudly in her living room as she did that daring little walk to the laundry room in her underwear. Sam picked up a pair of her shorts and pulled them on, buttoning them up securely.

She shoved her feet in a pair of blue flip-flops and swiped her keys off the hook by the door, tucking her phone and a twenty in the back of her shorts. She slipped out the door quietly and unlocked her car. It was her first purchase after her little two-bedroom house by the studio.

She slid the key into the ignition and the engine turned over, roaring to life. The warm, humid air greeted her with a rush as she rolled down the windows and the radio came to life. Thank God for Sirius XM Radio. Led Zeppelin's 'Kashmir' filled the car as she backed out the driveway and towards Wal-Mart.

Thank God she was able to get in and out. A quick trip to the gas station and so far, she hadn't thought of Finn.

Shit, there he was again. Sam glanced at the clock on the dash. Four am. It was seven in Ohio. She knew she would be exhausted when she showed up to the studio to lay down the track for 'Collide.' It was the missing track on her new album and she knew it would be a hit.

But when she turned the car back on, Taylor Swift played through the radio speakers. Taylor. Freaking. Swift.

God, couldn't it have been some crazy rock song and not one of Taylor's earliest hits? Sam really wasn't in the mood to burst into tears all over again, but there they were, stinging her eyes. She scrounged around in her center console for a napkin to wipe her eyes with. One good thing about her Charger...it was always stocked with napkins.

But she couldn't resist singing along with _Teardrops on my Guitar_, like with every Taylor song that came out. What could she do? Samantha Devine was a sap for passionate laments on heartbreak.

Taylor freaking Swift. Sam shook her head and slid Christina Aguilera's _Lotus _into the CD player, skipping the first few tracks. _Blank Page _was her absolute favorite of the entire disc. Tears blinded her vision and she sniffled hard.

_I'd go back in time and I'll realize  
Our spirits aligned and we'd never die_

There was no way in hell that she could sleep that night. After she shut off the car and grabbed the few last-minute groceries, she couldn't resist typing a quick Facebook status.

___Draw me a smile and save me tonight  
I'll be your blank page waiting for you to bring me to life  
Paint me a heart, let me be your art  
I am a blank page waiting for life to start  
Let our hearts start and beat as one together  
Let our hearts start and beat as one forever_  


She flicked the phone off and slid it into her back pocket, wiping her eyes.

Samantha had a long day ahead of her tomorrow and her entire facade hinged on her being untouchable. She couldn't let Finn Hudson affect her anymore.

Easier said than done...


	8. Chapter 8: Just A Fool

_**A/N: Definitely give "Blank Page" a listen...I can't stop listening to it, I cannot press that song anymore than humanly possible! It's so beautiful...and Christina's song "Just a Fool" with the fabulous Blake Shelton! And also, to tell the difference between Sam Devine and Sam Evans, they're not Thing 1 and Thing 2. Sam Devine is Samantha and Sam Evans is Sam in Finn's POV. **_

* * *

_I, I had my heart set on you  
But nothing else hurts like you do  
Who knew that love was so cruel, yeah, yeah, yeah  
And I waited and waited so long  
For someone who'll never come home  
It's my fault to think you'll be true, yeah, yeah  
_

_I'm just a fool f__or holding on to something that  
__Is never, ever gonna come back  
__I can't accept that it's lost_

_I should have let it go_  
_Held my tongue, kept my big mouth shut_  
_'Cause now everything is just wrong, wrong, wrong_

Christina Aguilera ft. Blake Shelton — Just A Fool

* * *

Finn lost count of how many times he watched that clip of _The Wendi Show _with Samantha on it. She was out of her element, that much was clear. For one, Samantha hated pink, yet she sat in an overstuffed white armchair wearing a tiny pink dress with black lace and sky-high stilettos. Then Wendi began asking all sorts of personal questions, like questions about the shooting. If looks could kill, then the blonde would have dropped dead right then.

He checked his Facebook to see Samantha's name pop up on his news feed. She had a lengthy status, which had four 'likes' and Santana commenting on it. It wasn't anything uplifting, of course. Anyone with eyes knew it was about him and Santana had never rooted for them.

He wanted to find his calling and he wanted to go to LA. At least he could hide under the pretense that he wanted to help Puck with his pool-cleaning business like he had wanted to originally. Casually and awkwardly be the hanger-on when Puck or Mercedes saw her.

"You miss her, don't you?" Sam's voice came from behind Finn. He looked up and saw his friend chew on the inside of his lip. "Thing 1. You miss her."

He logged out of Facebook and closed his laptop. "Yeah, I do," he admitted. Finn knew he shouldn't talk about his personal life while he was taking over Glee, but Sam knew about _her. _He forced his mind to not use her name, like it did with Rachel. For now, he called Devine _her. _It would work for now.

He needed to focus on his set-list. That annoying first competition was rapidly approaching and he still didn't have any idea what he was doing. His Foreigner idea had been quickly shot down and he was coming up empty.

_"Well, no shit it got shot down. A for effort and a B for creativity, but really? Having the kids dress up in international flag costumes and sing Foreigner songs in foreign languages? That's like begging someone to come and beat them up for racism. Do you want that on your head, Finn Hudson? I think not!" _

He could hear _her _criticism now. Her terribly blunt, but usually right on the mark criticism.

"Look, I know it's not really any of my business, but if you're still seriously into her...why don't you tell her?" Sam suggested.

"I did. She feels the same way I do, but she doesn't have room for me in her life. She's got her music career that she wants to focus on and I haven't exactly given her a reason to trust me," Finn replied. He found himself once again dancing around _her _name.

The only place he wanted to be was where _she _was. That cute, frustrating, stubborn, elusive little elf who conquered his subconscious with her sweet smile, larger-than-life personality, and spunk, as Burt often called it. Nothing could touch _her _that she didn't let it.

Without him in her life, Finn knew Samantha could make it.

Dammit, he let himself think her name. Now he could see her pretty face, her big blue eyes, that grin that never ceased to make his day...

"And you're gonna let that stop you? I mean...come on. Ever since I met you, you've always done exactly what you want. If you want, well, _her, _what's stopping you besides distance?"

* * *

Sam was confident she was going insane again. Everyone went nuts over _Collide _and everyone wanted a piece of the action. People were talking music videos, award nominations, talk show spots, even the possibility of touring.

All she wanted to do was go back to Lima. She felt homesick after one day.

And then there was New York. She had New freaking York to go to and get her picture taken. wanted to do an interview with her and Isabelle Wright wanted to take a bunch of pictures for the fashion spread.

Between playing the guitar to record _Collide _and pretending to care about current events with the dramatic maniacs also on the label, she was spent.

The fact that she hadn't slept in two days probably contributed to that.

She finally collapsed on her bed in her pajamas and gave herself over to sleep.

Just as easily as it began to sting her eyelids, it danced away from her again. Sam stared at the ceiling and moaned in frustration. Her iPhone chimed on the nightstand and she picked it up, turning on the screen. A text from one of the producers on the label.

_Get your head in the game, kid. We need you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at nine am sharp! Dress nice xx_

Sam rolled her eyes and shut the screen off. She couldn't sleep. _Still. _

It was a vicious cycle. Why couldn't she sleep? She had long since gotten over jet-lag.

Her phone rang again in her hand and she sat up when she saw Thing 2's name on the screen, along with a picture of the two of them together.

"Hello?" she said hesitantly. She squeezed her eyes shut, raking her hand through her dark hair.

_"Hey, listen, I know it's really late there," _he started to say.

"It's even later _there_," she murmured.

_"But I just wanted to see how you were," _he said finally. Sam arched her eyebrow and scooting herself farther back against her pillow. At one o'clock in the morning, she seriously doubted this was a social call. She shot her alarm clock another glance before stroking Skye's silver tabby fur on the bed.

_Are you asking or is Finn? _she wanted to ask.

"Tired as hell. I'm a singer/songwriter, remember?" she said instead. She felt crazy. And jittery. What she _needed _was sleep, but it eluded her. She couldn't focus. "How's everyone there?" Sam purposefully left his name in the air, unspoken. Her mind couldn't form _his _name. She didn't want it to. If she let her mind think _his _name, then she wouldn't get any sleep for the next two weeks. "I-I heard that you guys had a pretty successful Glee rehearsal?"

_"It was alright. Finn suggested a Foreigner theme for Sectionals...it didn't go over well with the rest of us. Get this, he suggested that we dress up in other countries' national flags and sing Foreigner songs in their languages."_

She felt a twinge in her gut at the sound of _his _name and forced an amused snort. "That's actually a very interesting idea. Not in a way that he should actually do it, but way to think outside the box, huh?"

Who was she kidding? _She missed him. _Oh, how she missed him. _  
_

"How's Finn?" she whispered. Hot tears stung her eyes as she forced her lips to say what her mind wouldn't let her. She blinked them back.

_"You want the real answer or what he wants me to tell you?" _

"Let's hear his answer first."

_"He says he's fine. The real answer is no. He misses you."_

"I miss him, too." She couldn't wait to get _Collide _on track. Once that happened, she had a few more talk show engagements (she kept her fingers crossed for _Ellen DeGeneres_, simply because she adored the show) and then they cut her loose for the holidays. "I miss him a lot."

_"Here's Finn."_

"No, Sam, don't!" she practically cried, bolting up to standing on her knees. She clapped her hand over her mouth and turned the phone on speaker, wringing her hands. For a moment, she actually considered hanging up the phone on them.

Then she heard his voice.

_"Hey."_

"Hi." Shasta's head lifted from the bed and she stared at the phone.

Awkward silence. Emotional roller-coaster, random fatigue, heart palpitations, her fight or flight instincts raging war in her mind that flight was quickly winning.

_"How are you?" _

Emotionally messed up, desperately in love, incredibly exhausted both physically and mentally.

"Fine," she lied, forcing a smile. He couldn't see the faked grin, but he could certainly hear the tears in her voice. "I, uh, heard about your hit assignment. Dynamic Duets? Nice." She could do this. Samantha Devine was the daughter of an actress, dammit, and she could fake it with the best. "Though, I think you could have covered _Kryptonite _by Three Doors Down. Just saying."

_"I didn't even think of that song. And it fit in so well with the theme of the lesson," _he said blankly. She could hear the same tone in his voice, the one that choked back tears. Could they pretend to be civil to each other? Could they pull it off? _"How's LA?"_

"Um...it's the City of Angels. I'm surprised Puck hasn't burst into flames yet," she tried to joke. Tears trickled down her cheeks and she sniffled. "Damn the pollen here. It's supposed to be November, but I just went to the store in shorts. Now it's screwing with my head."

_"Pollen...yeah, same here," _he agreed. _"Do the people at the label like your song?" _

"Yeah. They think it's some of the most honest work I've ever done. When it gets released, Mikey thinks the public's gonna go nuts over it," she couldn't help but boast.

_"I'm really proud of you, Sammie. This is something you're meant to do." _

Now she couldn't stop crying. "It doesn't feel right, though. There's this huge hole missing in my life and I don't know what it is," she confessed. She lied about the latter; she knew damn well what that hole was. Or who, rather. There was a Finn Hudson-shaped hole in her life, a hole only he could fill.

_"Do you know when you're able to come back?" _he asked. She swallowed hard and sniffled again, wiping her eyes.

"We shouldn't even be talking right now," she reminded him. Sam coughed and looked over at Shasta, who cocked her head to the side. The husky recognized Finn's voice. "But me seeing you is inevitable when I come home sometime soon, though."

Three years passed since meeting Finn. People changed and came and went as they pleased, but there were things that would never change. Sam's feelings for Finn were one of them. No matter how many times they broke each other's hearts, they were each other's safe harbors.

_"I know we shouldn't be talking but Other Sam sort of sprang this on me," _he said. Then he sighed over the other line. _"I miss you, Sammie. I can't stop thinking about you."_

"I miss you, too and I can't stop thinking about you, either," she admitted. She bit her lip hard and made herself lay back down. "Look, I've got a really long day. Can we call this a night?"

_"Yeah, we can. I guess I'll see you when I see you?"_

She sighed deeply and ran her hands over her tired face. "Yeah, see you then."


	9. Chapter 9: Prove Your Worth

_**A/N: For reference on Sam's dress earlier on in the chapter, go on the website Mod-Cloth and look up the Pin-up, Up, and Away dress. And for her shoes, look up the Patent Trending Heel.**_

_**Rain: You've got two to read now lol but I'm glad you liked the lines!**_

_**Guest: Aw, you're so sweet. Hope you continue to be obsessed with this story!**_

* * *

_There's only two types of people in the world  
Ones that entertain and the ones that observe  
Well, baby, I'm a put-on-a-show kinda girl  
Don't like the backseat, gotta be first  
I'm like the ringleader, I call the shots  
I'm like a firecracker, I make it hot  
When I put on the show_

_I feel the adrenaline moving through my veins  
Spotlight on me and I'm ready to break_

Britney Spears — Circus

* * *

Sam stared at her reflection in the mirror, smoothing her hands over her flat stomach as she took in every angle of the form-fitting high-waisted black pencil skirt. Her friend Carla had come over early to help her pick out her outfit for the meeting with the investors and go through her vocals for the studio tomorrow when she recorded _Collide._ She wound her dark hair in a low pony-tail over left shoulder and stared at her reflection.

This wasn't her. It was like pulling teeth to get the real Sam to wear a skirt (besides a cheerleading skirt because those were as comfortable as sweatpants) or high heels. And when she was in Lima she wore heels and a freaking _dress _to a play opening. It wasn't her.

She was a tomboy to the core; if she wanted those investors to see the real her, she would wear jeans and a T-shirt.

Of course, then Mikey would shoot her out of embarrassment. They expected her to look nice, so nice she would give them in a look that was far more her. A knee-length pencil skirt in LA's stifling weather was torturous. She unzipped it and shook her hips to step out, hanging it back up on the hanger.

The skin-tight strap-less white bodysuit she wore under the skirt had black roses printed on it and made her look five pounds thinner. Strictly something to wear under a skirt or a pair of trousers.

Or a pair of really nice jeans. Once again, she would get shot if she showed up to work in a pair of jeans when they told her to dress nice. Her gaze fell on the black tuxedo-coat style dress she wore to Lima to see _Grease._ The Balmain Kurt frothed over. Her eyebrow arched as she buttoned up the dress. With the bodysuit instead of her bare skin, she actually looked professional.

But definitely not like her. With a shake of her head, she hung it back up in her closet. She slipped out of the bodysuit and hung it back up.

Her gaze raked over her closet until she found a dress she had bought online when they paid her for signing a contract. It had only cost about thirty-five dollars, but it was a nice indulgence. She zipped it up and tied the neck, examining her reflection now. This looked better and would actually keep her cool for the day. It was a blue and white halter-neck pin-up style body-con dress with tiny red polka dots on the white bust and three red buttons. The hem-line ended a few inches above her knee and emphasized her natural curves. All in all, it looked like something from the sixties, which she _loved _about it. The blue skirt began just under the bust and a thin red fake leather belt went through the little belt loops. She slid on a pair of red pumps to wear with it, adjusting the buckle.

After scraping her hair up in a tight, high pony-tail reminiscent of her time as a Cheerio and applying a coat of red lipstick, she was almost ready to go. Thank God she remembered a pair of shorts, a T-shirt, and a pair of Converses to bring with her to change into afterward. She glanced at the screen of her laptop and ran her fingers over the track-pad to wake it up. Skype was open and she could see two contacts online.

Finn Hudson and C.J. Fuentes.

Shit.

She tried to ignore it as she applied a thin line of black liquid eyeliner on her upper lid but she found herself continuing to glance at it. Yearning began to spread in her stomach. There wasn't anyone who could calm her nerves except Finn.

Dammit, she was weak. Sam reached for her iPhone and dialed his number before she lost her nerve. Her eyes squeezed shut as the phone began to ring on the other line, heart racing in her chest and leaping into her throat. It continued to ring.

Just when she thought it would go to voice-mail, there was that husky male voice.

_"Hello? Hello? Sam? I think you butt-dialed me."_

_Dammit, Samantha Renée Devine, grow a pair of balls and speak! Talk to him! _she berated herself.

"N-No, I didn't butt-dial you. I...I have an iPhone, remember?" she said before mentally kicking herself. _Way to go, moron, now he thinks you're the biggest dork alive!_

_"...Oh. Did you...did you need something?" _he asked.

_Mostly you. Forever works for me, how about you? _she wanted to say.

She licked her lips and let her eyes flutter open. "I have a meeting with the investors of the label today to show them my song. They decide whether I stay on or not and...I don't know, I guess I need a good luck about now," she said. She couldn't think of anyone else to call. "I don't know why I called you...I mean, I meant to keep up the no-contact thing, it's just..."

_"I know," _he said softly. Tears filled her eyes again, threatening to ruin her make-up.

"I just...I can't stop thinking about you," she confessed. Her voice cracked and her throat thickened. She wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep or not. "I...I'm coming back to Lima after I finish laying down the song and I'm leaving in January again."

He was quiet on the other line and she bit her lip hard.

_"I can't stop thinking about you either," _he admitted. Her alarm on her phone beeped and she rolled her eyes. She had to go. _"Look, I screwed you over last year and I get that. We're trying to move past that, aren't we?"_

"Yeah," she replied softly. "Can...can I see you when I come home to visit?"

_"I'd like that. Sam...I meant what I said when I said I was proud of you. You deserve this more than anyone else I know. You've overcome so much and you're still the toughest person I know," _he said.

"So much for keeping my makeup looking good," she commented with a dry chuckle, wiping her eyes. "I have to go and see whether I'm cut out for this or not, but I'll call you later."

_"I'll keep my fingers crossed," _he told her. Then the line went dead. Sam walked out of her room and took her keys off the ring. With a shaky breath, she walked out of her house and locked the door behind her.

* * *

The investors couldn't be a lot older than her, slightly younger than Mikey, which told her they were overseeing for their fathers. If they liked her music, then they would continue to fund the label.

And all three were freakishly gorgeous. Annabel Stewart was a tall, willowy girl with the palest blonde hair, massive sea-foam green eyes, and the most flawless fair skin Sam had ever seen. She was impeccably dressed in a conservative garnet-red pantsuit and a pair of white lace ballet flats. Maria Salazar was the anti-Annabel, a petite brunette with gorgeous dark brown eyes and gorgeous skin, dressed in a shimmering gold jumpsuit that fell to mid-thigh and a pair of sky-high stilettos, showing off a pair of enviously toned legs. And then there was Luke Dawson. His tousled brown hair had sun-bleached streaks, his pale blue eyes shone with mischief and he had a cute, crooked, and dimpled smile that he constantly had on his boyish face.

He had a way of making eye contact with people and it made Sam feel like he was staring right through her. It unnerved her a little, but she forced a smile and shook each of their hands.

"Well, let's get this show on the road. You're apparently one of the best acts they have," Luke commented. Sam led the way into the studio and faced it, sighing deeply. This was the now or never moment in her life. She turned the knob and walked into the studio. It looked like any old studio; brown egg-crate-like walls, microphone descending from the ceiling, the dimmed lights.

She pulled the headphones over her ears and looked through the sound proof glass at Mikey, giving him a thumbs-up. The intro of _Collide _began to play through the headphones and she waited for her cue. The red light flicked on, signalling the recording.

_Something had to change, weighing on your mind  
__Something I don't know, that I can't describe  
__We're slipping, we're falling, we're fading fast, so fast  
__And everything's a mess, don't know where to start  
__Everything we knew almost broken apart  
__I'm willing to take it, to put it in the past_

_So, don't leave, still a light inside  
Telling me all we need is time  
Just breathe, put your hand in mine  
Look into my eyes, let it all collide, collide, collide  
Put your hand in mine, look into my eyes  
All we need is time_

_A promise that we made underneath the sky  
To never sleep alone, to never say goodbye  
Remember forever is worth a fight, that's right  
And so I'll take the pain and you're the reason why  
I'm never giving up on how I live my life, a life with you, oh, oh_

_So, don't leave, still a light inside  
Telling me all we need is time  
Just breathe, put your hand in mine  
Look into my eyes, let it all collide, collide, collide  
Put your hand in mine, look into my eyes  
All we need is time_

With the instrumental break, she felt wholly in her element. This was what she was meant to do.

_So, don't leave, still a light inside  
__Telling me all we need is time  
__Just breathe, put your hand in mine  
__Look into my eyes, let it all collide, collide, collide  
__Put your hand in mine, look into my eyes  
__All we need is time_

_Don't leave, still a light inside  
__Telling me all we need is time  
__Just breathe, put your hand in mine  
__Look into my eyes, let it all collide, collide, collide  
__Put your hand in mine, look into my eyes  
__All we need is time_

Sam waited until the light went off before taking off the headphones. She looked through the glass and saw Mikey applauding. He turned on the intercom.

"And that, kids, is why we want to pay that girl the big bucks. Great job on the song, Sam, take five," he said. She set the headphones back on the stand and made her way out of the studio.

For once, she felt confident. She knew she could do this.

* * *

All she had to do now was get through the business dinner with Liam Dawson and she would be golden; her career would be safe.

"If I were you, Sam, I wouldn't go through with the dinner," Carla commented, her ruby-red lips pursed, her indigo eyes somber. "He's got a rep for playing, if you know what I mean."

"It's just dinner and if he tries anything, I'll let him know I'm not interested," Sam assured her, glancing at the pretty redhead leaning against the bathroom counter. "Right now, I just have to win him over with my charm." She fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously. "Besides, I have a sort-of boyfriend and he's a dirty old man."

"Just keep that in mind and keep in mind that he's a dirty old man partially in charge of your career," Carla warned. Sam finished brushing out her long, newly straight dark hair and flipped it over her shoulder.

"I'm a professional. He is, too. No one's worth compromising my values over," she replied as she walked out of the bathroom. If Liam Dawson was a dirty old man like Carla feared, then Sam would let him know she wasn't going to play.

"Keep that in mind. Do you have a contingency plan if he decides to can you after all?" Carla inquired as she climbed on the bed and sat Indian-style.

"I go back to Ohio, recuperate, then come back to LA with my guns a-blazing. I'd hate to walk away from Mikey, but I've had other offers from other labels. He wasn't the only one to approach me that night, you know. Besides, it gives me more time to spend with the kids in Glee," Sam responded. She took off her teal sweatpants and white tank top to pull on the dress. It was a modest, conservative black lace mini-dress that ended a good few inches above the knee, but cut high enough to look classy instead of slutty. "Zip me up, would you, Carl?"

Carla obeyed and spun her around. "I still think this dinner is a bad idea. What does Puck have to say?" she asked.

Oh, Puck was most likely the last person Sam would ever tell about a dinner. Even Mercedes thought it was a bad idea. One of the girls on her label had been pressured to 'put out' and had either gotten kicked off for not doing it or feeling guilty for selling out.

"He doesn't know," Carla stated in surprise. Sam slipped on her Mary-Jane style black heels and buckled them, standing up straight. "You tell him and Mercedes everything."

_I used to tell Rachel everything, now look at us. We're just now talking for the first time in a year, _she thought wistfully. Her head lifted when she heard a honk outside.

"Wish me luck, girl," she told Carla and hugged her tightly. "Lock up when you leave and let Shasta back in. Thanks, you're a doll."

"Just be careful, Sammie. I'd hate to see this get ugly," was Carla's reply.


	10. Chapter 10: Jealousy

_**A/N: Sorry about the delay, loves! I've been super busy with Christmas and an addiction to American Horror Story (Go Violate) but I hope you'll enjoy this chapter just the same... I've also based Carla on Evan Rachel Wood and Mason Walker on Evan Peters. **_

* * *

_I've got my sights set on you  
And I'm ready to aim  
I have a heart that will never be tamed  
I knew you were something special  
When you spoke my name  
Now I can't wait to see you again  
_

_I've got a way of knowing  
When something is right  
I feel like I must have known you  
In another life  
'Cause I felt this deep connection  
When you looked in my eyes  
Now I can't wait to see you again  
_

Miley Cyrus — See You Again

* * *

The dinner got called off halfway through and Sam bit back a grateful smile until she reached her door after Liam dropped her off due to an emergency at the office. She pulled out her suitcases and ditched the dress in her closet, settling for a pair of shorts and a tank top. It was unseasonably warm in the late evening again and she could probably kill some time by going for a walk.

After the dinner, Mikey said she was free until the New Year. Since dinner got cut short and Sam had just enough money in her account for bills and some left over for recreational things like plane tickets. Her parents would probably give some, since she would be there a while.

"Well, I'm gonna find some cheap tickets," she said to no one in particular as she sat down on her bed with her laptop cradled on her legs. The usual suspects weren't any good. One was nine-hundred, one was eight-hundred...until she finally found one.

Five-hundred twenty-one dollars for just her on round trip. Shoot her now. Until the contract finalized and they locked her into the label for two years, she lived off the money her grandmother threw her way now and then, along with her parents' generosity. That was the only upside to her going to Spain a couple of summers ago.

"Hey, Daddy, I know it's late over there," Sam said, tucking the phone into her shoulder.

_"Insomniac, remember?" _Donald reminded her. Already she felt better. _"Have you found some cheap plane tickets?"_

"I found a round-trip ticket for five twenty-one on one of those travel websites. I think it's our best bet if I fly into Toledo instead of Lima," she replied. "But I'd have to leave on the twenty-first at like, five in the evening. I'd be there at eleven, though."

_"Five twenty-one? That's not bad at all. Give me the site and I'll go ahead and pay for them. You've got half that you can send me, right?" _he said. Sam gave him the site name over the phone and then leaned back against her headboard. _"Wow, it's only nine there? Huh. I can never stop marveling at time zones..."_

She smirked and picked at the chipping black polish on her thumb. "I know, right?"

_"Alright, baby girl. I will see you on the twenty-first and I will personally take off work to come and get you from the Toledo airport. Sound good?"  
_

"Yup, see you then, Daddy." She hung up the phone and dropped it next to her. She took in her bedroom thoughtfully.

Carla would be staying there to look after the house while she was gone because her boyfriend kicked her out. Soon enough, she would move into the spare room and pitch in with the rent.

Packing for about a month and a half starting tonight when she was leaving in three days was probably a good idea. Sam swung her legs over the bed and pulled out her suitcases. The other night, she had agreed to pay the luggage and pet fees.

A few strokes on her laptop pulled up iTunes and "I Could Not Ask For More" by Edwin McCain started playing. So many memories of that song began to flood her mind.

Memories of Finn murmuring the lyrics to her when they laid down in her backyard to go star-gazing, the iPhone nestled between them. He called it their song.

She forced herself to shrug it off before she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

Carla.

"Don't judge me," she told her before rolling her eyes and setting clothes in the suitcase. "Look, I really appreciate you looking after this place."

Carla shrugged and leaned against the door-frame. "Thanks for giving me a place to crash. I'm not gonna here long, I promise."

"Stay as long as you want. You know I don't mind as long as there's no permanent damage done," Sam assured her.

* * *

Her home in Lima was deathly quiet in the morning, but that was the norm for Sam. She crept into the kitchen barefoot, wearing her favorite flannel sleep-shirt. A box of cereal sat on the counter and she arched her eyebrow in confusion. Granted, she'd been away from home for a while, but she knew her mother wouldn't dare let someone leave food on the counter. She opened the pantry and put it back on the shelf, with a shake of her head.

Donald must have been in a rush to get to work and forgot to put it away. Sam found a mysterious void of dishes in the sink, however. Jet-lag must have messed with her brain. After a three-hour layover in Vegas, she finally rolled into bed at three in the morning. LA time.

The sound of someone moving around behind her made her freeze. She slowly moved to the knife block by the stove and unsheathed the long butcher's knife.

She crept around the corner around the fridge and pointed it toward someone standing behind her. His dark eyes widened in shock and he held up his hands in surrender.

"Who the fuck are you?" she demanded. He was tall, with messy brown hair styled in a way that reminded her of Ryder's hair in _Grease. _"What are you doing in my house?"

"Whoa, your dad didn't tell you about me, did he?" the guy said. "My name's Mason Walker and I work at the garage with Patrick. Just...put the knife down, alright?"

Sam studied him for a long moment before hazy, sleepy memories from this morning flooded her mind. Oh. She slipped the knife back in the block and let out a nervous laugh. "What an impression I must have made, huh? I'm really sorry about that."

Mason chuckled and turned away politely. Sam glanced down and her eyes widened. Heat flooded to her cheeks as she realized she stood in front of a _very _attractive guy...and she wasn't wearing pants.

"And I'm not wearing pants. Um, I'll be right back," she said, jogging past him. She mentally kicked herself as she yanked the nightshirt over her head and slipped on a pair of jeans from the pile on her floor. "Oh, my _God, _what is _wrong _with me? I babbled, held someone at knife-point, and called attention to the fact I'm not wearing pants. I was in L-fucking-A and I was totally cool there. What the hell is it about Lima that makes me into such a dork?" she ranted under her breath as she yanked on a yellow tank top over her head.

She hopped downstairs to see an Akita sniffing Shasta carefully. Sam stopped in her tracks warily to watch them. The husky was definitely an Alpha. Sharing her turf with another dog would only piss her off.

"They've done that all morning. Apache's pretty good with other dogs," Mason's voice came behind her. Sam looked over her shoulder and bit her lip. The Akita was good with other dogs, maybe, but Shasta was an entirely different animal.

"It's my dog I'm worried about. She's the queen and she knows it," she explained. She looked up at him and felt the heat flood her face again. "Anyways, um, I'm really sorry about what happened in the kitchen. I've only had about three hours of sleep and it kind of makes me a little bonkers."

"No worries. You handled it better than most girls your age. Usually, they'd scream bloody murder and hide," he remarked. She chuckled and turned back toward the kitchen.

"I live in LA. Learning how to defend myself is pretty much lesson number one," she said, pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge. "Where are you from?"

"LA. I moved here a few months back to make a new start. Figured Ohio was the best place to do it," he replied. She shrugged and took a swig of the water to take her morning medication with it. "What do people in Lima do for fun?"

"Oh, lots of stuff. There's _show _choir, there are Sex Addicts Anonymous meetings, AA Meetings, gang fights in Lima Heights Adjacent..." she trailed off with a wink.

"Wow, show choir _and _gang fights? Why on Earth didn't I move here sooner?" he bantered back. She giggled and leaned against the kitchen counter.

"It's paradise, lemme tell you," she replied. Her iPhone buzzed on the counter and she picked it up. Santana. "Lady Devine's House of BD-SM. Unfortunately, all our operators are busy at the moment. Leave a message at the beep, you bad, bad girl."

_"Hot," _Santana cracked. _"This is Lady Tana." _

"What are you up to?" Sam asked, stifling her giggle.

_"Hating Hudson for dragging me to that lame-ass park by McKinley. Yes, Jolly Green Giant, I'm talking about you. I'm talking to Sam, who's like, in another timezone," _Santana said, her voice going distant for a few seconds.

"Or Sam, who's like, sitting on her kitchen counter at her parents' house," Sam added.

_"Then you need to get your munchkin ass on the Yellow Brick Road down to the park where the graduates are so I don't catch their nostalgia," _Santana told her. _"Besides, we barely got to hang out during the play because you were so busy dry-humping Hudson."_

"So you insult me to draw me to a park where you insult me again? Miss you, too, Satan."

_"Shut it, Strip-Tease, you know I love you."_

"I can feel the love all the way on Cherry Street." She looked at Mason and had to smile at his pretending-to-be-focused-on-something-else expression. He really was so very cute.

But Sam missed Finn. She wanted to go to the park to see him badly, but that no-contact thing still remained fresh in her mind.

"Hey, Mason, you working today?" she found herself asking before she thought it through.

"Not till three. I close tonight," he replied.

"Wanna go to the park?"


	11. Chapter 11: So I'll Be On My Way

_**A/N: I have so much planned now...let me recover from my Violate addiction and then more updates will come. I guess I'll ship Kit/Grace in Asylum or something...I dunno...my writing will suffer, should I ever watch American Horror Story: Asylum. Just...be warned. The song Sam and Finn sing in this chapter is "Call Me" by Shinedown. Sam's voice is in italics and Finn's is in bold. Bold and italicized means they're both singing...  
**_

* * *

_You said it's too late to make it  
But is it too late to try?  
And in that time that you wasted  
All of our bridges burned down  
_

_I've wasted my nights  
You turned out the lights  
Now I'm paralyzed  
Still stuck in that time when we called it love  
But even the sun sets in paradise  
_

Maroon 5 — Payphone

* * *

Sam sat on the picnic table with her legs crossed to watch the guys duke it out in basketball. Autumn weather and shirtless guys...two of her favorite things.  
"Okay, you've been staring after Finn for the past twenty minutes. When are you going to go talk to him?" Blaine asked. Sam shrugged and shifted her weight to a different place. "Who's the guy you brought with you? Someone from LA?"

"He works at the garage with my dad and Finn and he's staying with us for a while. He didn't have to work until later and the house is pretty boring when you're there by yourself, so I invited him along," she explained. Mason played on Puck's team and Sam could see the animosity between him and Finn. She kept her eyes to herself instead of gawking at his shirtless torso, finely toned with muscle. Not like Puck's obvious pride in his overblown muscles or Finn's insecurity about the way he looked. "Besides, he's pretty cool." The two had talked in the car on the ride over. Mason was interesting and actually pretty smart. They had a mutual interest in classic cars and old movies, like Star Wars.

"He seems nice, but isn't he a little _old_ for you?" Santana asked, staring pointedly at Quinn.

"Santana...don't," the blonde warned flatly. Sam turned around to look at her friends questioningly. "Don't worry about it, Sam. Santana's just being a bitch again."

"I'm not surprised," she remarked before hopping down from the picnic table. She turned her back on her squabbling friends before taking a spot on the dead grass a good distance away. Grass blades began to get pulled up from the earth and she sighed. "Happy freaking Thanksgiving," she muttered.

"I like your friends...they seem decent," Mason's voice came from behind her. Sam looked up and shook her head.

"Yeah, they're a fine bunch of Reubens," she replied. She glanced at him with a smirk as she finished playing with the dead grass. "Sorry about Finn...he doesn't like new people much. I'm sorry I dragged you out here, too. I didn't think of how awkward it might be for you."

"You apologize a lot, you know that?" he commented as he sat down next to her. She opened her mouth to say something and he cut her off. "Don't apologize again. I've just forgiven you for pulling a knife on me."

Sam gave him a look. "Oh, you're so kind," she replied wryly. Mason smirked in reply and leaned back on the dead grass, folding his hands behind his head. "Why _did _you come, then?"

"To get to know you better. You seem like a pretty cool chick," he answered. Her look turned shy and she moved her gaze to the fabric of her jeans. "What, you don't get that very often?"

"Not exactly. I usually get remarks about my physical appearance," she said.

"You pull a knife on them, too?" he returned. She snorted and shoved him playfully. "It might help you get some respect."

"Or get me shipped off to the funny farm," she bantered back. He lifted the shades of his aviators, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

"Oh, you're good," he complimented her. She grinned in response and tucked a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. "I think you'd pull a knife on them, too."

"Depends on if they leave cereal boxes on the counter," she told him. He nodded appreciatively at her remark.

"Touché, little one, touché," he acquiesced. She laughed again and shook her head.

"I have my moments," she replied modestly. She sat Indian-style on the grass and her mouth twisted. "Tell me about yourself."

"If I tell you about me, you gotta tell me about you," he told her. A smirk flickered on her lips and she wrapped her arms around her knees. "You go first."

"Well, what do you want to know?" she inquired, tilting her head.

"Can you play the electric guitar?" he asked. She nodded, hooking her ankles together and twisted her mouth. "What kinds?"

"Electric and acoustic. I'm pretty good at it," she responded. "This gives me two questions now..."

He smirked and moved his shades back down over his dark eyes to shroud them again, but Sam caught the flash of momentary panic. One question gnawing at her was what could make him leave what was obviously his hometown of LA to come to _Lima _of all places.

"What's your favorite color?" she asked instead. Mason chuckled and shifted his weight.

"Green," he answered. She nodded again and continued to play with dead grass blades. "You?"

"Purple. What sort of movies do you like?" It was better to ask safe questions than to all of a sudden to hit him over the head with the heavy.

"Horror, mostly. I like comedies, too. Hate romance movies, they're _way _too sappy," he replied, his voice light with some emotion she couldn't quite read.

"A lot of them are," she agreed. She looked down again at the dead grass in her fingers, chewing on her lower lip.

"You fidget a lot," he commented. Sam looked up to see him watching her intently. "What made you want to become a singer?"

"A lot of personal things in my past that I don't like to talk about...at all," she responded. Heat flooded her cheeks again because she knew he was still staring at her. "I used to belong to a show choir group when I was in high school and singing was the one thing I did for me. I'm a good songwriter, so I figured, hey, why not make a career out of it?"

"That's a good idea...your dad always turns up the radio in the shop when your songs come on. You're pretty talented," he told her.

* * *

Finn sat on the picnic table, watching the two figures in the grass interact. Mason said something, Sam blushes. They were flirting, that much was obvious. Finn felt that cold stab of jealousy and tried to swallow it back. Sam wasn't his girlfriend anymore...he'd burned that bridge beyond repair. If she wanted to move on to the 'cute' mechanic of the tire shop, who was he to stop her? And it wasn't like he could blame Mason; Sam was beautiful and had a great personality. What red-blooded guy wouldn't be interested?

"Will you just grow a pair of balls and go get her back, Orca? God, you two are so exhausting! You're into her, she's into you, and if you don't do something about it, _he's _gonna be into her and _she's _gonna be into him and _you're _gonna be the tool on the sidelines. We're not in high school anymore and frankly, you're better off with her than treading on Berry's coattails in her limelight," Santana finally exploded.

"What good would that do if I live here and she's in LA, Santana?" Finn pointed out.

God, he was torturing himself by watching them. All he wanted to do was go over there and squirrel her away from him, Rhett Butler-style in his arms or like a caveman over his shoulder, he didn't care. It was probably just flirting, anyways. Sam did it all the time with anyone who was a willing participant.

"The fact that you've got something those dorks in LA don't and it's her attention. I don't know if Sammie's a chubby-chaser or what, but for some unknown reason, she seems hung up on you. If I were you, I wouldn't waste any more time," Santana replied, sliding down from her spot on the picnic table. She tossed her long raven hair over her shoulder. "Do with that what you will."

Santana Lopez was a selfish person by nature, but Samantha was one of her best friends. She didn't really like Finn, but she loved Sam.

"Sammie! We still on for tonight? We's gonna get our freak on!" Santana called, rolling her body for emphasis. Sam looked up and laughed.

"Yes! I've been looking forward to this since two hours ago!" she replied. "And my brother's coming, too...he's insisting on being our bodyguard for the night."

Finn watched the two sit down and chat before shaking his head. Blake was in town? That was the first time in two years. He turned his attention to see Mason walking over to him. After he lit up a cigarette and a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, he finally spoke.

"Do you have some sort of problem with me? Because if you do, now's the time to start talking, Hudson," he told him. "Is it because I'm new? Because I've been helping Burt around the shop while you were gone?"

The latter was a bit true, but the other part was grateful to him for assisting Burt.

"It's not because of any of that. It's something personal that has nothing to do with you," Finn replied. He watched Sam and Santana laugh on the grass and turned away.

"Is she taken?" Mason asked as he flicked his ash off the end of his cigarette. Finn followed his gaze over to Sam. "'Cause if I'm stepping on any toes, that's the last thing I want to do."

_You think you have a chance with her? _Finn thought, sizing him up. He took in the blue work shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the messy mop of brown curls, the cigarette in his hand. If Mason continued to smoke, he had a snowball's chance in hell with Sam. Other than that, Finn noticed Quinn's appreciative glances his way, the way even Santana looked at him. Kitty practically drooled all over him. "Not technically."

"I used to hang out with this one chick who's boyfriend was totally psycho, that's why I'm asking. A girl like that usually isn't lonely for long," Mason explained.

"You want to hang out with her? Watch out for Santana. She's pretty much Sam's bodyguard and has been for longer than I've known her," Finn told him, then regretted it.

"She told me about you two, you know," Mason said quietly. "That's why I asked if I was stepping on any toes. You're technically one of my bosses. The last I wanna do is piss off anyone."

* * *

Sam sat down at the piano, her finger trailing over the keys. Her gaze moved over the sheet music in front of her. It was probably her favorite Shinedown song in front of her, but there were so many other good ones.

_Wrap me in a bolt of lightning  
Send me on my way still smilin'_  
_Maybe that's the way I should go  
Straight into the mouth of the unknown_  
_I left the spare key on the table  
Never really thought I'd be able to say_  
_I merely visit on the weekends  
I lost my whole life and a dear friend_

Finn's voice came in from the doorway in the choir room, chiming in with hers.

**_I've said it so many times  
I would change my ways, no never mind  
God knows I've tried_**

**Call me a sinner_, call me a saint  
_**_Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the_ _same_  
**Call me your favorite, call me the worst  
Tell me it's over, I don't want you to hurt  
**_It's all that I can say, so I'll be on my way__  
_

**I finally put it all together  
But nothing really lasts forever  
I had to make a choice that was not mine  
I had to say goodbye for the last time  
I kept my whole life in a suitcase  
Never really stayed in one place  
Maybe that's the way that it should be  
I lived my whole life like a gypsy  
**

**I've said it so many times  
**_I would change my ways, no never mind_  
_**God knows I've tried**_

_Call me a sinner, **call me a saint  
**Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the_ _same  
_**Call me your favorite, _call me the worst  
_Tell me it's over, I don't want you to** **hurt**  
_It's all that I can say, so I'll be on my way_

_I'll always keep you locked inside  
**You healed my heart and my life**  
**And you know I try**  
_

_Call me a sinner, **call me a saint  
**Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the same  
_**_Call me your favorite_, call me the worst  
Tell me it's over, I don't want you to**** hurt  
**_It's all that I can say...so I'll be on my way  
**So I'll be on my way  
**So I'll be on my way...  
_

Sam drew the song to a close, tears rolling down her face.


End file.
